A Rare Delicacy
by Babealicious
Summary: Ranger returns from a mission to find that things had changed dramatically while he was gone. Can he make his way back into Stephanie's heart? Or are things beyond repair? Babe story, rating for language and eventual smut in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A Rare Delicacy**

by Babealicious

**Rating:** M for eventual smut and coarse language. Maybe some mild violence.

**Cupcake:** Joe may get taunted and bashed around a little, but no permanent harm will be done.

**Spoilers:** Through all the books.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own JE's Stephanie Plum series characters. Not mine, just borrowing. Will return Lester Santos at a later date, although he may have some slight bruising to the chest and neck, a somewhat noticeable limp, and several bite marks in various locations upon delivery... ;)

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They say that you should always savor the taste of a rare delicacy because the opportunity to have it again may never arise.

Which is why I consider myself a fool for not relishing every last smell and taste of the only woman I've ever allowed myself to love. She'd let me into her heart and soul that night we'd spent together, and all I was able to give her in return at that time was my body. I desperately wished that I would have taken the time to savor the feel of her smooth, milky skin beneath my eager fingertips; the flowery scent of her wild brown curls as they glided over my stomach; the intoxicating taste of her intimate desire.

Had I known that that would be my only chance to delve that deeply into her essence, I would have locked each and every taste and smell away in my memory so that I could sit and bitterly remind myself for the rest of my life of what I could have had.

I'd been in the wind for nearly a year with Tank as my only outside contact for the first portion of the mission. After six months, instead of being debriefed and sent home, I was transferred unexpectedly to a different undisclosed location in Bolivia that had no electricity or running water. Not to mention the absence of a telephone.

Before I left Trenton a year ago, though, I had made sure to say good-bye to her.

"_I'll be gone for six months, babe," I'd said after dragging her to the alley behind the bonds office. _

_Silence ensued, followed by the lowering of what had just been bright blue eyes, now dull with disappointment. "Why so long, Ranger?" was eventually the quiet reply. _

"_The government needs me. I have a contract to fulfill. The length of time depends on how long it takes for me to get the job done. Could be less than six months, could be more."_

"_Can you at least tell me where you're going or if it'll be dangerous?"_

_I shook my head. "Can't, babe. I wish I could, but you know how this works. I've been in the wind before, although never for this long. Tank will be in charge while I'm gone. Go directly to him for any issues that you have. I hope to at least leave some form of communication open between him and I, so he can give you updates as he gets them."_

_She took all of that in with silent understanding. She always did. It made me feel like such a shit, the way she accepted my responsibilities with grace and dignity and never criticized me for being virtually missing in action for sometimes what turned out to be a month or two at a time. I feared greatly that there would, someday, come a time when I would return from God-knows-where and she'd have moved on with her life, but at that moment all I needed was her unconditional support._

_"Ranger." Her voice broke me out of my thoughts. She was peering up at me with now-darkened eyes, trying to see into my soul, as usual. A full minute passed before she said, "Kiss me before you go?" _

_Did she even have to ask? As soon as the words left her larynx, my mouth was on hers, hungry and insistent. Her tongue touched mine and something inside me snapped. I gripped her face in my hands and poured every ounce of passion and desire I felt for her into that kiss. By the time I'd released her we were both panting, each of us desperate for more but the realization that we were in an alley behind the bonds office kept our lust for one another at bay. I couldn't allow myself to sink too deeply into the aforementioned emotions at that moment because I wasn't going to be able to see her or be near her for six months. Or maybe longer._

"_I have to go, babe." With a quick kiss to her flushed cheek, I was gone._

It needed to be that way, I'd decided. And I knew she understood because I saw it in her eyes as I backed away from her. She had given me a tearful smile and had mouthed "good-bye" as I climbed into my Mercedes and drove away. When I looked in the rearview mirror she was still standing there, sobbing as she watched my taillights disappear into traffic. When I turned the corner and could no longer see her, my heart splintered inside my chest and I prayed to God that I would return home to her beautiful, smiling face and the happiness that she made me feel everyday, just by being her.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and six months turned into nearly twelve. All I thought about while I was on vacation in hell was her. The way she always flashed me excited little smiles when I came up behind her at Rangeman or the bonds office. The way she blushed with pride when my men congratulated her on a distraction job well done. And the way her eyes darkened to midnight when she sat down upon me and took me to heaven, her head falling backwards as she came screaming my name.

Christ, it had been a long year. Today was my lucky day. They had me in debriefing for four hours, slapped a bunch of termination paperwork into my hands, threw me on a 747 bound for the States, and told me to go home and wait for my big fat check in the mail.

I called Tank on a pay phone as soon as I walked off the plane at Newark Airport.

"Tank," I croaked out.

I heard him sigh deeply with relief. "Bossman, good to hear your voice." Santos was shouting in the background, yelling to everybody in Control that I was on the phone. Probably they'd all been wondering if I was even still fucking alive.

"I just landed in Newark. Delta Airlines. I'll be waiting outside."

"Ten-four. On my way." The line went dead.

I went to the baggage claim to wait for my military-issue duffel sack to come around on the luggage carousel. When I finally had it in my arms, I carted it outside with me and was never so happy to breathe in the smell of bus fumes and polluted Jersey air.

When Tank swung the Explorer up to the curb at the Delta terminal an hour later, the expression on his face was grim. No wonder. I hadn't been able to get in touch with him for the last six months of the mission due to my location. Until now.

Tank got out of the Explorer and tossed my olive-drab duffel bag onto the backseat. He loaded me into the passenger's side and slowly pulled away from the curb.

"Is she okay?" was the first thing I said to him.

He nodded. "She's fine."

"Good." The relief I felt at that moment was orgasmic.

The ride out of the terminal was completely silent until, "Got some news for you," Tank boomed, startling me from my thoughts. I had figured he was grim for a reason. His tone and demeanor told me that I probably wouldn't like what he had to say much.

I let out the breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "So what's going on?" I asked, dreading his answer.

Tank glanced over at me. "Of all the weekends for you to pick to come home," he muttered, shaking his bald head. "Fuck."

"It's not like I could have chosen when my ass got thrown on the first plane headed back here," I exclaimed. "I haven't had contact with any of you for six months."

Tank thumped his fist on the steering wheel. "Christ, I know that. I've been down that road, too, you know."

"Well, would you just tell me what the hell's going on, then?"

He was silent for a long while before finally saying, "It's-" He took a deep breath and let it out before continuing. "She's…Jesus, I have no idea how to tell you this."

"Just tell me, man." Bile was quickly rising in my throat and my panic level had just reached ten.

Tank scrubbed a hand over his face and turned away from me, his eyes focused back on the road. "She's getting married tomorrow."

If hearts could shatter into a million pieces, mine would be doing exactly that. If stomachs could dissipate into pools of liquid body tissue, mine would be just melting away. No way. No way was she getting married tomorrow. Tank was pulling my leg.

"You're fucking with me. Please tell me you're kidding me, right?" I demanded to him.

Tank shook his head grimly. "I wish I was. Boy, do I wish I was."

My stomach rolled with waves of nausea and I saw red. "How could you let her do this?" I grit out quietly. "Any of you guys?"

"She's a grown woman, Ranger. Who are we to stop her?" Tank looked over at me incredulously.

I ran my hands through my hair and growled in frustration. He was right. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as my head fell back against the headrest.

"Why?" I asked to the ceiling of the Explorer, more of a question to God than to anyone else.

Tank shifted uneasily in his seat before replying, "She didn't know when you were coming back, Bossman. Claimed she needed to move on with her life."

I scoffed. I _always_ came back. True, this was the longest I'd ever been away from her. And one of my biggest fears each time I left on a mission was that she would meet someone else while I was gone or be "on again" with Morelli or worse, start dating one of my men. But when did I ever _not _come back? Never. I always did.

An awful thought crept into my brain. "Did she think I'd been _killed_?" I asked Tank. Just the _notion _of her worrying that I'd been dead for the last six months was almost too much to bear and I got nauseous again. I took a sip from the water bottle Tank had placed in the Explorer's cup holder for me and slouched back in my seat.

Tank shook his head. "No." I breathed a sigh of relief before Tank continued. "She said she knew in her heart that you were okay, although she was confused about why you hadn't made contact with anyone. It had been too long, these last six months. She just…didn't understand."

"I _couldn't_ contact anyone," I exclaimed angrily. "It wasn't like I could just pick up a coconut phone that the Professor had crafted and make a bunch of calls. It's pretty hard to get a dial tone in the middle of the fucking rainforest."

"Preaching to the choir, Bossman." Tank picked up I-95 at Elizabeth and took us south towards Trenton. He sighed again. "I tried to explain it all again to her. You know, how these government assignments of yours work. I told her that if you were able to call, you would. Because all the other times you had gone into the wind, you'd called and e-mailed. But she wouldn't hear me out. Said she couldn't wait for you any longer." At least Tank had made an attempt to get her to understand. I had to appreciate that.

My voice cracked. "I can't believe any of this is happening," I said. I leaned back in my seat and shut my eyes, trying to will away the vision of her in a wedding dress, walking down an aisle that didn't have me at the end of it.

Tank glanced over at me again and spoke quietly. "She was okay for the first few months after you left because we still had contact with you. Then your six months were up and you were still gone. As soon as you'd stopped calling and e-mailing, she became withdrawn and wasn't really the same anymore. She got tired of missing you, man. She couldn't do it anymore."

_Missing me_, I scoffed to myself. I was an idiot to think that she wouldn't miss me because I knew damn well that she would. Hell, I missed her more than I ever thought I could miss someone. Often times, I missed her so much that it physically hurt. She'd graced my visions during the day and had starred in my dreams at night. And while I was stuck in a dilapidated mud hut for weeks at a time, eating bugs and dining on MREs just to stay alive, she was out making floral arrangement decisions with Mary Lou and going gown shopping with her mother and Lula.

So she removes me from her life and tries to forget that I ever existed so she wouldn't miss me anymore. I may as well have just stayed down in that miserable shithole forever, because she was clearly done mourning the loss of what we had before I left and has now moved on. Without me. What _did_ we have before I left? I wasn't really sure, but I knew it had to be something. No two people have that kind of passion and desire for one another and have it not mean anything to them at all.

Even though I knew what the answer to my next question to Tank would be, I asked it anyway.

I swiveled my head to look at him. "It's the cop, isn't it."

Tank eventually nodded, sliding me a sympathetic look before refocusing his eyes on the road ahead.

I stared silently out the window with a very heavy heart, feeling as though I'd lost something of so much value to me that it would be virtually impossible to replace. The physical and emotional pain I'd endured for the last nine months was rough, sure. But the pain I felt deep inside from losing her to him for good was completely unimaginable.

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A/N: This is my first fanfic so please let me know what you think. I'm totally open to constructive criticism so please drop me a review if you have the time! Thanks for reading, stay tuned for chapter 2 up soon.


	2. Chapter 2

I greatly appreciate all of the reviews so far, they've really helped so much! Keep 'em coming, guys!

**Rating:** M for eventual smut and coarse language. Maybe some mild violence.

**Cupcake:** This is a Babe HEA and Cupcakes be warned! May be little unkind to Morelli in upcoming chapters.

**Spoilers:** Through all the books.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own JE's Stephanie Plum series characters. Not mine, just borrowing. Note to Janet: I apologize for returning Lester to you in that condition. The bruising to his neck and the swelling to his lips should disappear in three to five days. The limp may or may not clear itself up, depending on how often I intend to borrow him, if you'll even let me again. And for the record, he _loves_ to have his nipples licked. Such a naughty boy.

* * *

I stood under my shower head and scrubbed away the last twelve months of blood, sweat, and tears. As I worked the washcloth over my heated skin, I began to reflect on the last two years of my life and the people in it.

Sure, I've had girlfriends. One-night stands, booty calls, even a few long-term things. But all that changed the day I met the sexy brunette in the tan linen suit and red silk shirt, her long, pantyhose-less legs crossed in front of her and her curls wild from the scorching heat as she sat facing me in Mike the Greek's deli downtown.

"Connie says you're good," she'd said to me after I had pretty much told her that going after an FTAed Joe Morelli would most likely be a lost cause.

"There's me, and then there's you, and you aren't ever gonna be as good as me, Sweet Thing." Christ, I'd called her Sweet Thing. I think that was the first time in my _life_ that I'd ever used those words.

That same afternoon, I'd thrown away my little black book and deleted every number from my cell phone that didn't belong to my men or to my family. She was like a new drug, and I was hooked.

After my core team had met her during the Sloane redecorating job, it was the first time in _years_ that they actually had respectful things to say about a woman I was interested in.

"She's seems really great, Bossman," Brown had said.

"Gorgeous and sexy," added Santos. "Not slutty."

Tank had just nodded satisfactorily, his quiet approval meaning way more to me than the other two's verbal ones had. Tank has seen me laugh, he's seen me cry, seen me both happy and sad, he's seen me lose control, he's seen me kill. He's seen me shower, eat, sleep, shit, fuck, piss, you name it. Tank's seen it all. Been close with him since basic training and he hasn't left my side since. He knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.

"Miss Plum's a real nice young lady, Bossman," he'd said.

And my really great, gorgeous and sexy, non-slutty real nice young lady was about to marry another man. But not necessarily a better man.

I pounded a fist on the marble shower wall in agonized frustration and shut off the water. Ella had quickly gotten my apartment ready while Tank was picking me up in Newark and thanks to her top-notch domestic goddess skills, I had a clean, fresh-smelling towel to wrap around my wet body after I stepped out of the shower. At least I could still enjoy some simple pleasures while my heart was busy shattering to pieces inside my chest.

It was so good to be home but the feeling was bittersweet. I knew that the days of finding her lounging in my bed, scared to death to have me crawl between the sheets with her, were long over. Rex's wheel would never squeak from my kitchen counter again. I'd never again witness her sneaking into my apartment following a death threat from a nutcase, she'd never again have to try to figure out the buttons on my plasma remote, and she'd never again open my kitchen cabinet in search of the Tastykakes I'd always kept hidden for her behind the granola, which she would have found if she'd have taken the time to look beyond my cardboard cereal.

My heart began to ache. And not just a little pang, either. A full-blown ache.

I needed to go for a ride, clear out the cobwebs and try to make sense of all this.

For once, I wasn't up to wearing all black like a freaking lunatic and driving an obsidian vehicle like I was Batman or something, although she thinks I am. Or thought I was.

After I'd gotten dressed in blue jeans and a tight white tank top, I commandeered Lester's red Lexus IS F and tore off down the dark street, hearing the hiss of the turbo's blow-off valve echo in my ears and feeling the hum of the hot concrete beneath the 45's.

I ended up at her apartment building even though I knew she wouldn't be there, thanks to some superior snooping done by my man Hal. I considered calling her to let her know I was back but couldn't work up the nerve to dial her cell number and screw up the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Morelli'd never let me hear the end of it, probably. Nor would her mother.

I just had to be near something of hers. Had to be close to her, smell her scent. Know she was still real, even though she was no longer mine. She really hadn't ever been _mine_, but the reality of the fact that she'll probably _never_ be had me lurching out of the car and taking the stairs to her place two at a time.

By the time I reached her front door, I was breathing hard and had tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. When I'd caught my breath, I did what I always used to do. Picked the locks, shut myself into the cool, dark serenity of the apartment I knew she still called home, even though I was fairly certain she'd pretty much moved in with Morelli since their engagement. As I looked around, not many of her things were taking up space in the rooms. Rex was nowhere in sight. I assumed he'd taken up residence on Morelli's kitchen counter by now. The thought was so heartbreaking that it left me weak in the knees and gasping for air. All over a fucking rodent.

I flicked on the kitchen light and wasn't really surprised to see that hardly any of her things were sitting on the countertops. I opened the fridge and found a couple bottles of Bud Light and an unopened bag of moldy, pre-washed lettuce. No brown bear cookie jar on top of the stove. No pictures of her and the guys under the magnets on the freezer door. No photos of her family in frames, lining the bar. The place was sterile, devoid of her essence.

I walked into the living room to find a few pieces of her furniture and some household items in a clear plastic garbage bag. Continuing on down the hall, I stopped short when I reached her bedroom. White garment bags hung from the closet doors and from just about every available space in the room. I unzipped one bag and found a lavender bridesmaid dress sporting a tag marked "Mary Lou." Another dress in another bag was marked "Lula." The third and fourth dresses were marked "Valerie" and "Connie." Smaller bags held matching dresses for Mary Alice and Angie. A tiny dress was marked "Lisa." Flower girl. My heart cracked into pieces all over again.

In the closet, surrounded by other clothing, hung the largest white garment bag. I knew, without even opening it, whose name would be on that dress's tag. My fingers shook and my pulse pounded as I rasped down the zipper and caught a glimpse of the white satin gown my babe was supposed to wear the next evening to marry another man. _Another man_. I choked back a cynical chuckle and re-zipped the bag, being careful not to catch the dress's skirt on the zipper. I stepped around boxes of high heels and overnight bags as I made my way to the door. When I peeked into the bathroom, hordes of makeup littered the countertop and bottles of perfume and lotion covered every inch of available sink space.

I deduced that the bridal party would be staying the night and would be getting ready for the wedding in her bedroom, since it's considered bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the big moment.

Overcome with sorrow and the realization that I was too late, I felt defeated. Like I'd missed my chance to score the winning goal and someone else had swept the victory. In every sense of the word, she was considered a precious accolade, a gift of untouchable value. She was supposed to be _my_ precious accolade. _My_ gift of untouchable value. _My_ victory.

I went back over to her bed and sat down, thinking back on the night that we'd had together and trying to remember what it felt like to be buried deep inside of her. I shut my eyes and tried to envision it, but the memory wouldn't come. I didn't savor the moment enough. It was too late. Too late. I scrunched up her pillow in my hands and let out a frustrated growl before holding the fluffy object up to my face and breathing in. God, it smelled so good. Like strawberry shampoo, like perfume. Just…her.

For twenty minutes, I breathed into her pillow until I became worried that she'd smell the Bulgari on it and know I'd been here, rubbing my face all over the pink cotton pillowcase like a lovesick weirdo. I arranged everything back the way it had been and carried myself and my broken heart out to the dining room for one last glance around the inside of the apartment that I knew I'd probably never see again. That was when I saw it sitting on the table:

_Mr. and Mrs. Francis R. Plum_

_together with_

_Mr. and Mrs. Vincent D. Morelli_

_request the honour of your presence_

_to witness the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony_

_uniting their children_

_Stephanie Michelle Plum_

_and_

_Joseph Anthony Morelli_

_on Saturday, the twenty-sixth of June_

_Two thousand and ten_

_at six o'clock in the evening_

_Our Lady of the Angels Parish_

_21-23 Bayard Street_

_Trenton, NJ_

I clutched the framed copy of the invitation in my hands and read it over and over again. Seeing it in engraved writing really hit home for me. Soon I was unable to read it any further because my vision was blurred from tears.

The front door locks tumbled and I immediately froze. Whoever was preparing to enter her apartment would no doubt see me when they came in, plain as day standing in the dining room. I debated diving into her bedroom and crawling down the fire escape but before I could do anything, the door swung open on its hinges and she gasped when she saw me.

"Ranger!"

I wasn't expecting her to come home before I left her place and I certainly didn't expect her to be alone, but she was. Once the shocking pleasure of seeing her for the first time in a year had worn off, I managed to find my voice. "Hi, babe." My throat felt parched. She was all dressed up in a royal purple cocktail dress and didn't appear to have anyone with her. She looked even more beautiful than I'd remembered, but unhappiness was painfully evident in her surprised blue eyes.

"What are you doing here? When did you get back?"

"Earlier this afternoon. I'm sorry I couldn't call for all those months. I wasn't in a place where I had the luxury of using a phone." Or a shower, or a toilet.

She shut herself inside the apartment with me and hung her purse on the hook by the door. "I'm so glad you're okay," she said with quiet relief. She reached out to me and I folded her into my arms, burying my face in her curls and committing the waves of her silky hair and the feel of her body against mine into my memory. She let me hold her for what seemed like hours before I reluctantly pulled away and moved towards her front door, still clutching the framed invitation.

I stuffed my free hand into my jeans pocket and cleared my throat. "Tank told me the news when he picked me up at the airport today. Congratulations." What the fuck was I doing? Congratulations? Here was my chance to profess my love for her and I was letting the opportunity quickly slip away because of my pride. I was such an idiot. Such a _fucking idiot, _Manoso_._

Her brown curls danced as she nodded slightly. "Thanks," she said, a little surprised. Probably trying to figure out why I was just letting her go like this, without a fight.

"Anyway, I was just leaving. I apologize for having invaded your privacy." I brushed past her and breathed in her scent, wanting to remember it for the rest of my life as it lingered in my nostrils. I handed her the framed wedding invitation I had been holding and watched as expressions of intense sorrow and sadness passed across her features when her mind finally registered what I'd had in my hand. She reached out to take it and the large diamond on her ring finger caught the kitchen light and flashed in my eyes, causing fresh waves of extreme hurt and anguish to roll through my exhausted body.

She stared down at the invitation in her hands and finally looked up into my eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to find out this way, Ranger," she said quietly. That felt like a quick blow to my heart, what she'd just said. My presence here tonight clearly wasn't going to keep her from marrying Morelli. She had truly moved on with her life and had made her decision. For lack of a better action, I simply nodded.

I opened her door and stepped into the hall. "Good-bye, babe." I smiled sadly at her and with that, I left her standing in the foyer and strode through the corridor to the stairwell, the sound of my booted footsteps echoing within the cement walls as I quickly descended down to the parking lot. I shut myself into Santos's ride and stuck the key into the ignition.

Suddenly, I couldn't be near her anymore. I'd done what I needed to do, held her one last time. Smelled her one last time. Felt her against me one last time before I turned her over to her fiancé. I quickly started the Lexus's engine and roared down the street, flying through the gears until I was squealing to a stop in the quiet serenity of Santos's parking space, nestled deep in the underground garage of my Trenton operations center.

I tried to catch my breath as I leaned my head back on the headrest, the leather of the seats rubbing noisily against my jeans while tears pricked at the corners of my eyes for the millionth time since Tank picked me up that afternoon. My hands were shaking as I whipped off the seatbelt and removed the keys from the ignition.

_What the fuck have I done?_

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A/N: So Steph obviously still cares about Ranger, since she's glad he's okay and she hugged him. Should she be pissed that Ranger let her go without a fight? Should Ranger fight back for her? Or should he just let her go and move on himself? Please let me know what you think! Your input could change the direction of the story! Lol stay tuned for Chapter 3, up soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello all,**

**Thank you tremendously for the reviews and e-mails, and your encouragement with this difficult story. I apologize for not getting chapter 3 up sooner than tonight, but RL is not always fun and games :) Again, I appreciate your feedback and I hope you continue to read and enjoy the story.**

* * *

**Rating:** M for coarse language.

**Spoilers:** Through all the books.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own JE's Stephanie Plum series characters. Not mine, just borrowing. Janet: You are a kind woman for letting me borrow Lester again for my personal enjoyment this past week. Rest assured that no permanent damage has been done to his legs and/or hips. However, he may be a bit hoarse due to all the screaming and dirty talking. Some Halls lozenges should clear that right up.

* * *

I have no idea how long I sat in the Lexus but I figured it had been awhile when my ass started to tingle and succumb to numbness.

Which is exactly how my mind felt at that moment. Numb.

Seeing Stephanie tonight for the first time in a year should have been one of the happiest occasions of my life. Given the current circumstances it's quickly become one of the worst, second only to the cold, rainy March afternoon when my sisters and I buried our father. I was twenty-six years old when he died and already the C.E.O. of a multi-million dollar security operation. I had the weight of the world on my shoulders and yet I still had to stay strong for the people who needed me the most.

"Carlos," my father had gasped to me, just hours before unconsciousness consumed him and allowed him to slip away peacefully into the night. "One of the most important things in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in."

"Yo sé, Papi."_ I know, Dad._ Christ, did I know. My father knew me better than anyone did, including Tank and Lester and Bobby. He knew that it wasn't easy for me to let women in and allow them to see the real me, the real Ricardo Carlos Manoso. The hard brick wall that separated my heart and soul from my body was constantly erect. I considered that to be one of my weaknesses. And believe it or not, I still have many.

"She's out there. You just haven't met her yet. And mi'jo, when you do find her, don't let anything take her away from you."

I shook my head fervently and tried to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop streaming down my cheeks. "I promise I won't. I love you, dad."

"No llores más. I love you too, son."

_I found her today, Papi,_ I'd said silently to my dad as I lay in bed, eight hours after meeting Stephanie for the first time in that downtown sandwich café. _She's the woman who will help me knock down that concrete wall._ I've been letting her light shine into my darkness since the moment I laid eyes on her and she's never even realized it. Doesn't even know the effect she's had on me from the beginning. She's got my entire heart at this point, and she doesn't even _know_ it.

After collecting on our "debt" some two years ago, I'd exited her body and sent her back to the cop like a fucking idiot. I single-handedly rebuilt the brick wall between my heart and soul and my body. _She's not ready_, I kept telling myself. _You're not ready_. _You'll only fuck up her life_. I may have been the worst thing for her at the time because of the demands and dangers of my job, but she's _always_ been the best thing for me.

Her youthful spirit and light heart kept me going during all of the miserable weeks and months I'd spent out on the tundra, or down in the rainforest, or over in the desert. And all those times when I thought I had nothing left inside of me, I simply thought of the goodness in Stephanie and kept going, kept surviving. Kept coming home.

But it's all over with now. No more missions, no more government assignments. No more being "in the wind," as she calls it. This morning I couldn't wait to get home and tell her that it's all done, and that I'll never willingly leave her side again. I was ready to make her mine completely. The brick wall between my heart and soul and my body has been permanently chiseled away. I wanted all of her. I desperately wanted her heart, her soul, her body. Her love and desire. Her passion. No one and nothing could take me away from her anymore.

Yet here I am, breaking the promise I'd made to my father six years ago. I'm standing by and letting someone take _her_ away from _me_.

When I could no longer feel my legs due to them being cramped up underneath the steering wheel, I opened the car door and stepped out to stretch. I slammed the door shut and limped over to the elevator, stopping to think for a minute before jabbing the buttons.

Where to? I desperately needed to talk to someone before I lost it completely. Someone who wasn't avoiding me like the plague, giving me these sympathetic little looks and wordlessly clapping me on the back because they had no idea how to fucking talk to me.

I knew just the man to visit. I hit the button for four and sailed north.

I banged on his apartment door and when it opened, my mind was flooded with flashbacks of the scrawny eighteen-year-old kid in my infantry unit who was abso-fucking-lutely gifted with an M249 light machine gun and an M16. Give him a sniper rifle and he'd take out the target in a single effortless shot, without even hardly trying. The loving way he handled firearms always amazed me. To this day, I _swear_ he still gets hard just talking about weapons. This one girlfriend he had used to bring a Glock to bed every night to get him in the mood.

He was now 6'3", forty pounds heavier and ten years older, shirtless and leaning against his door frame with his huge arms crossed over his massive chest. A slow smile spread across his face when he looked down and saw me on the other side of his door jamb.

"To what do I owe this great honor?" he mumbled.

I tossed him the keys to his Lexus and pushed past him, into his apartment. "Lily asleep in there?" I asked him, gesturing towards his closed bedroom door.

He nodded sagely. "I wore her out."

"You're a fucking animal."

Santos grinned. "Think so?"

"I still can't believe she agreed to move in with you."

"Believe it, baby."

I stalked over to the sofa and plopped down. "I feel like I'm living a fucking nightmare." I buried my head in my hands and clenched my jaw in defeated frustration.

Lester shut the door and headed into the kitchen. He returned to the living room with two Coronas and set them onto the coffee table after twisting off the caps. "You need a beer," he said to me.

"I need a time warp," I retorted. "This morning I was a desperate man, dying to get home from the jungles of the Amazon to wrap my arms around Stephanie's beautiful body and tell her how much I missed her. Tomorrow, her beautiful body'll be wrapping its arms around another man at sundown after their wedding vows are exchanged. And I'm still fucking desperate."

"Explain," Santos said.

I sighed. "I just left her apartment."

"What the hell were you doing there? Hal had confirmed earlier that she was at the rehearsal dinner."

I hung my head. "She came home before I left."

Lester nearly choked on a sip of beer. "So did you talk to her? Did you tell her how you feel about her?"

"My pride wouldn't let me."

Santos took another sip of his Corona and then set the glass bottle back down onto the coffee table. "Bossman," he began after awhile. "To be honest with you, I've always had you pegged as a guy who'd never take no for an answer."

"Why, because when you were twenty I held a pistol to your head after you refused to share your Moon Pie with me in Qatar?"

"Nooooo," he said slowly. "And you're an asshole for bringing that up."

"Speaking of asshole, you were so freaked out that we needed to get you a new pair of fatigue pants afterwards."

"Fuck off. Now, will you listen to me? Since when the fuck are you a quitter? You go to South America and do God-knows-what for a year, dodging bullets and escaping drug cartel bombings. You come back for good and find out Stephanie is marrying the cop tomorrow and you're just gonna stand by and let it happen?" Lester shook his head in disbelief. "What the hell happened to you, man?"

"I couldn't do it. Every wedding detail appeared to be planned out so meticulously. The bridesmaid dresses and shoes, her own dress, the rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner. She'd even framed a copy of the invitation, for Christ's sake!"

Lester scoffed. "So you're just letting her go like that -" he snapped his fingers - "because of a framed wedding announcement?" His eyes were wide with disbelief.

I shook my head. "No. It's just that everything seemed so...final, you know? Like they'd been preparing for this for so long. No room for mind-changing or second-guessing. Before I left her apartment tonight, she told me that she was sorry I had to find out this way."

"Ouch."

Yeah. Ouch. Broken hearts hurt like hell. "So after I hugged and congratulated her, I said good-bye and walked out."

Lester slowly shook his head and looked at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry, man," he said softly. We sat for a long time in companionable silence, sipping our beers. The plasma on the wall in front of us was on, tuned to ESPN and muted. Lester watched intently as the highlights of that evening's ball game came onto the screen and hissed, _"Yessss!" _when he saw that his precious Yankees had managed to defeat the Seattle Mariners.

"How the hell did this whole thing get started?" I asked him after awhile.

Lester sighed. "All right. I'll give you the unabridged version. Even though you were gone, Rangeman of course still needed to run. Tank and Bobby and I were trying our damnedest to keep things from becoming clusterfucks without you around to ensure that everything stayed in order. Steph was usually around to help with computer searches and distraction jobs in between picking up skips for Vinnie. I remember the last time we'd heard from you. It was about six months ago. They were sending you to Bolivia for an undetermined amount of time and then the fucking phone line cut off. When Tank told her the news, she grabbed her purse and left the building without saying shit to any of us."

"I remember that day," I reminisced. "I got shot in the thigh by an AK-47 two hours after making that phone call."

Santos grimaced. "When I saw her at the bonds office the next morning, her eyes were all swollen and she looked like hell. We all figured she'd take the news pretty hard."

My heart splintered in my chest at the thought of what she must have felt when she was updated on my latest whereabouts. "Tank said she got worse and worse after that."

Lester nodded. "She didn't talk to us much anymore after that, like she used to. She slowly started doing less work for Vinnie and eventually didn't work at _all_ for Rangeman. Like Tank probably told you earlier, she ended up getting a full-time job in the personnel office down at the sanitary products plant."

"Yeah, he told me."

"Then one day, a few months ago, I see her in Giovicchinni's with this huge rock on her ring finger and a cart full of groceries. Said the cop proposed and that's why she had pretty much quit working for Vinnie all together and had taken a "normal" job at the sanitary products plant. To compromise with him, you know? She claimed that if she was going to be married and then get pregnant right away, she'd better stop putting her life in danger by hunting down crazed desperados for chump change. Since it was looking like you'd be out of the picture for awhile, I guess Morelli took it upon himself to take her mind off of you for good."

Fucking asshole. My stomach rolled at the thought of him marrying her and making love to her. The thought of Stephanie pregnant with his baby was nearly too much to bear and I was forced to shut my eyes and push my head between my legs.

Lester was at my side with a wastebasket in no time. "Relax, man. Slow deep breaths."

I did as he said and began to feel better. When the clanging in my skull subsided and I wasn't feeling quite so nauseated, I sat up tentatively and gulped from the cool bottle of water that Lester had placed next to my Corona.

"So she agreed to marry him in order to move on with her life," I muttered to Santos. "Tank said she got tired of missing me."

"In my opinion, you weren't gone long enough for her to get tired of missing you."

"Touché." I shook my head. I was silent for awhile before quietly asking him, "Why do you honestly think she's doing this?"

Sighing, Lester answered, "I think that's something you'd need to ask Steph, man. I can't speak for her." Lester clapped a hand on my shoulder. "But if it makes you feel any better, I doubt she'll ever be truly happy with him. She's just settling."

"Why do you say that?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Just a gut feeling I keep getting." Santos rested his elbows on his knees and peered over at me with great concern. "Can I ask you a question, Bossman? Why did you decide to come to me tonight? Tank's usually better at the heart-to-heart stuff."

My voice cracked. "Because you know what it's like to lose a woman to another man."

Santos stared at me for a full minute before nodding once. The broken-hearted kid within him emerged suddenly and his big brown eyes began to water. He knew exactly how I was feeling. The agony he'd gone through when Krista married his brother was felt by all of us. Lester Santos has been to combat in third world countries, has been shot by guerilla soldiers in the jungles of South America, and has witnessed destruction and despair all over the universe. And the first time I'd seen him shed tears in my _life _was in the second-row pew of Cathedral Basilica of the Sacred Heart, three years ago, when Angél said his vows with beautiful Krista and effectively removed her from Lester's heart for good.

"I _had_ to let Krista go," he finally said to me. "She didn't love me the way she loved my brother."

I nodded, understanding completely. Santos was a good man. I hated to see him still hurting. "You did the right thing," I said to him.

"I know," he replied, giving me a small, tight smile. "But still. It sucks to be runner-up."

_Runner-up_. An awful idea crept into my brain. Was that what I was? Runner-up to Morelli?

Lester broke me from my thoughts again. "But you know what? I don't think Stephanie cares for the cop the way that she cared for you, man. You don't _have_ to let her go. If you don't go over there and tell her how you feel about her before she marries him, you're gonna regret it for the rest of your life."

Lester and I sat quietly on the couch for a long while, each of us lost in our own thoughts. When I had finished my Corona, we went out onto the balcony of his apartment and slouched down in porch chairs, wordlessly listening to the industrial night-time sounds of downtown Trenton below us.

I sat up suddenly. I'd made my decision. I had to tell her before it was too late. And God help me, I needed some answers from her. I needed to swallow my Latino pride and go directly to the source before the source turned down the soft pink sheets covering her bed and crawled in for the night.

Santos rose from his chair as soon as he saw me vacate mine. "I hope you're doing what I know needs to be done," he said gravely, folding his arms across his chest.

"You're right. I don't _have_ to let her go."

"Nope. You don't. And you shouldn't."

"All I thought about while I was away was Stephanie. Her good heart, the way she makes me laugh. I loved every single thing about her. I want her to be mine, goddammit! Her body, her mind, her heart, and her soul. The passion, the desire, the friendship we used to have. I want it all with her. Marriage and babies, lots of them. I wasn't able to promise her a whole lot of anything a year ago, but I'm damn willing and able to promise her the _world_ right now."

Lester smiled knowingly. "You're head-over-heels in love with her, aren't you."

"Damn right, I am." With a quick, tight hug around my best friend's shoulders, I let myself out of his apartment and stalked down the hall to the elevators, my mind whirling a mile a minute. When I got up to seven, I found two overnight bags in my closet and began moving about my bedroom, locating clothes. A few tee shirts, some black basketball shorts, a couple pairs of black silk boxers, and some black tank tops went into one bag. My razor, a stick of deodorant, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and a bottle of Bulgari body wash followed.

I opened a drawer in my bureau and was delighted to find that Steph's extra stash of clothes were exactly where she had left them after her last stint as stalker-bait and had to pull a Weekend at Batman's. I selected a few pairs of Steph's bikini underwear and a set of skimpy pajamas and tossed them into the second overnight bag. In went some shorts and a few tee shirts, then finally a couple of lacy VS bras that nearly had me weak in the knees just from imagining her in them. I went into the bathroom and prayed that the stash of makeup and other shower toiletries she kept underneath my sink was still there. It was, and the stash had somehow grown bigger since the last time I saw it over a year ago.

Had she been...? Nevermind, Manoso. Focus, you lunatic. Ask questions later.

I lugged the overnight bags down to the Cayenne and tossed them into the backseat before laying rubber out of the underground garage and down Haywood Street. When I reached Hamilton, I put in a call to Tank at Rangeman Control.

"I'm offline until further notice," I barked to him.

I could practically feel Tank grinning on the other end of the line. "I knew you'd snap out of it sooner or later. Go get her, man."

"Let everyone know she's safe and that she's with me. And tell Morelli to go fuck himself. She won't be walking down the aisle to him tomorrow."

"Ten-four. And Ranger, we've all got your back."

I was silent for a few seconds before answering him. "I know. I appreciate everything you guys have done. Thank you."

"Our pleasure, Bossman."

I disconnected and continued to rocket down the streets of the Burg until I reached St. James, just at the edge of town. Stephanie's blocky, no-frills apartment building loomed into view and I swung into the lot of the office park across the street so that I could look up into her living room windows.

Every single light in her apartment was blazing away, illuminating the plus-sized figure of a dark-skinned woman, the large-breasted figure of another woman with big Jersey hair, and a daintier blonde with a Meg Ryan shag. Lula, Connie, and her sister Valerie. Lula was wielding what looked to be a bottle of something alcoholic and was pouring it into cups situated in the hands of Connie and Valerie. Probably a pre-wedding bridal party toast.

But where was the bride?

I pulled out of the office park and eased the Cayenne into the rear lot of Steph's apartment building to a space in a darkened corner of the macadam. The answer to my aforementioned question came in the form of a shadowy silhouette walking away from the Dumpster, in the opposite direction of my car. Stephanie. Her curly brown hair was covering her face as she walked, head down and arms crossed over her chest, away from where I sat in the Cayenne. I got out of my vehicle and quietly shut the driver's side door before walking around the car to lean against the passenger side's rear quarter panel.

As if on cue, she lifted her head and turned, seeing me directly behind her before digging in her heels less than fifteen feet away from where I was standing.

"Ranger," she exclaimed, her blue eyes wide and shining in the orange glow of the lot's lighting.

"Babe," I greeted her, my arms crossed over my chest. "You're missing the party upstairs." I nodded my head up towards her living room windows.

Stephanie slowly inched backwards, alternating between keeping her eyes trained on mine and periodically glancing around the lot, as if she was worried someone might see her standing there talking to me.

"What are you doing here?" she asked me for the second time that night, her quiet voice trembling.

I moved to open the passenger's side door. "Get in," I demanded.

Her scared deer-in-the-headlights look became more pronounced at the notion of climbing into my vehicle and I became concerned about her seemingly irrational fear.

_Why the fuck is she so afraid of me?_

* * *

A/N: Good old Lester finally knocked some sense into Ranger's thick skull! Will Stephanie obey Ranger and get into his SUV? Why is she so afraid? Where will he take her and will he get the answers he needs from her? Stay tuned to find out. Chapter 4 up soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Greetings, Babes!**

**I am so pleased with the encouragement you have all given me with this story so far. It makes me happy to know that you're all waiting excitedly for updates! It's been a busy couple of weeks, so I haven't been able to do much typing but I cracked down enough to get chapter 4 of A Rare Delicacy out to you. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Rating:** M for coarse language.

**Spoilers:** Through all the books.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own JE's Stephanie Plum series characters. Not mine, just borrowing. Note to kind Janet: Your generosity in sharing Lester Santos with me lately has been quite touching and certainly appreciated but I do wish you'd consider letting me have him on a full-time basis. When he's back with you, he just sits on a shelf in your creative imagination and doesn't have his needs fulfilled. How else will he get his earlobes suckled on and his luscious lips nibbled? Just a suggestion for you to play around with. Thanks.

* * *

"Babe." My voice was now soft and I sounded defeated as I took in her unease, wracking my brain to try to pinpoint where her fear was coming from. "Please," I begged her quietly. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I'll never hurt you."

"Ranger," Steph whimpered. "I - I can't do this right now. You have to go." Her feet were moving backwards on their own accord and my brain and heart were screaming for them to stop. But they didn't. It was like she just couldn't be near me. That thought alone nearly brought me to my knees.

She took baby steps away from me until the pain and anguish visible in her eyes began to blend into her facial expression. Suddenly, it was as if her feet felt too heavy to lift off of the ground and she was forced to stop stumbling backwards.

"Not without you." I strode up to her and placed my hand on her warm, soft cheek. Tears spilled from her eyes and splashed onto my thumb. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she leaned into my touch, my heart aching for the hurt she was causing me, my traitorous hormones screaming to rest my palm on other parts of her amazing anatomy.

God, how I've missed touching her this way. The hug we'd shared upstairs in her apartment earlier had been nothing more than a fucking tease. I couldn't believe that a hug was all I had allowed myself to have from her, the one last time I'd be able to feel her body up against mine. A five-second embrace that both healed my fragmented heart and then destroyed it all over again. Her cheek was so smooth, dampened with tears and quivering slightly as she sobbed noiselessly.

No doubt realizing that she was about to relinquish control and falter, she quickly pulled away from my hand and jammed the heels of her palms into her eyes to stop the tears from falling. She was holding her ground and my heart exploded right then and there. She couldn't even allow herself to shed tears over me.

"You shouldn't be here," she hissed, her voice still thick from crying. She pulled her hands away from her face and set her mouth in a line. "It isn't safe, Ranger."

I know I must have looked confused when I replied, "If you're worried about Morelli finding me in your lot the night before your wedding, I think I can handle him."

Stephanie narrowed her brow and shook her head. Her feet began inching backwards again as she said, "I mean it, Ranger. You can't be here. I – I have to get back upstairs." With that, she quickly spun around on the heel of her sandal and started towards the rear door of her apartment building.

"Babe," I called weakly after her, my voice cracking. Shit. Once again, Stephanie was pulling away from me and I was, once again, not doing much to stop her. _Not this time, Manoso,_ said a little voice inside my head.

No. Not this time.

My feet, previously frozen to the macadam, were suddenly galvanized into action and began carrying my body after her. I reached her in two strides. "Stephanie! Stop, please."

My plea was punctuated by the whistle of a bullet being shot through a silencer, the sound splitting through the quiet night air like a tornado siren. Both Steph and I immediately hit the deck and I listened in horror as the bullet pinged off of the metal Dumpster a mere ten feet in front of us. Two more shots were quickly fired in our direction just as I gripped her wrist and, crouching as low as I could, slunk us both over to the driver's side of the Cayenne, out of the direction of the gunfire.

"Get in," I hissed to her. I yanked open the driver's side door and pushed Steph over the center console to the passenger's seat before hauling myself into the driver's seat and peeling out of her lot. A bullet tore through the rear bumper of the Cayenne and a second bullet blasted into the side mirror next to me as we rocketed down St. James, but once we'd two-wheel-turned onto Hamilton everything immediately went quiet.

I glanced into the rearview mirror to check for a tail, but was met with nothing but black-tarred road behind us.

"Shit," I breathed out, sighing loudly. I glanced over at Steph and she was pale in the street light, her hair wild and her chest heaving with each breath. I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Tank.

"Bossman," he said as soon as the connection was made. "Everything all right?"

"Shots were just fired at Stephanie and I in her parking lot," I barked. "Send Santos and Brown. I'm sure TPD's already been called by one of the apartment building tenants. When Morelli arrives, Santos can deal with him. I've got Steph with me. We're unharmed. Our twenty is West Hamilton Avenue, approaching the entrance ramp to Route One."

"Any ideas about who the shooter could have been?"

I glanced at Stephanie and she was looking back at me, her blue eyes wide and shining. She shrugged. I shook my head and turned my attention back to the road. "I don't have a clue. Can't say the same for Stephanie, though." I disconnected and tossed my cell into the cup holder.

Both Stephanie and I fell completely silent as we continued to slip through downtown Trenton in the understated elegance of my SUV, only pausing momentarily at traffic lights until we reached the highway. I right-turned onto the Route One entrance ramp and glided into traffic, amping the Cayenne's speed up to eighty as I fell into line between a Ford pickup and a two-seater Mercedes.

After awhile, I cut my eyes to her. "Want to explain to me what that was all about back there?"

Steph shook her head. "Nothing to tell. I don't know a thing."

"Another stalker?" I countered.

She ignored me and continued to stare out the passenger's side window, seemingly working hard to calm herself down after what had just transpired in her parking lot. My interrogation ceased, yet my eyes were still on her. It was obvious that she was leaving something out, but she wasn't ready to go there yet. I was frustrated with her silence but kept my mouth clamped shut. More flies can be caught with honey than with water, anyway. I figured she'd tell me when she felt the time was right. She didn't need me trying to beat it out of her with harsh words and more insensitive demands.

"Where are you taking me?" she insisted quietly after awhile. "I have something to do tomorrow, you know."

I scoffed and unclenched my jaw. "Yeah. I know." I made a left turn onto an exit ramp and steered the Cayenne down a less congested four-lane highway before opening up the engine, speeding up enough to pass around a semi with Pennsylvania plates a couple miles down the road. I dropped the mph down to eighty-five and set the cruise control before entering what Steph had once termed my "aggravating driving zone."

Several tense, quiet minutes passed before she asked me incredulously, "You're not going to take me back to my apartment?"

I glanced at her. "Babe. Someone opened fire on us thirty minutes ago in your lot. If you think I'm taking you back there, you're even crazier than I am."

"I'm getting married tomorrow," Steph exclaimed angrily. "I made a commitment to Joe!"

"He'll understand." I adjusted the air conditioning vent to my left and refocused my attention back on the road.

Stephanie fell silent and I cut my eyes to her once again. She was slouched in the passenger's seat with her knees tucked under her chin, her sandals kicked off and her bare feet resting on the leather. She looked incredibly tired as she stared absentmindedly at the dark road ahead, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

She was no doubt worrying what everyone will say when they find out she's run off with "that ex-military hooligan Ranger" and, in the process, destroyed her chance for a safe, normal life with Joe Morelli, complete with a white picket fence, 3.5 children, and Bob the dog as family pet.

Steph turned her head around after awhile and looked in the backseat. She noticed the two overnight bags that were sitting side-by-side on the leather. "What's with the gym bags?" she asked me.

"Some of our things."

"Oh. So you _were_ planning to kidnap me when you showed up in my lot tonight. Luck was on your side tonight, then, Ranger. If it wasn't for the shooting and the fact that I was_ forced _to get into the car -

I glanced over at her. "There's a fine line between _kidnap_ and _convince_, babe."

"So _get in _was your way of convincing me to go with you?" she scoffed. "What ever happened to _please_? Or putting a_ would you like to _before the _get in_?"

"Babe."

"Ranger!"

Was she mocking me? I think she was. I stifled an amused chuckle and continued to stare wordlessly at the road. Stephanie soon became irritated with my silence and exploded.

"Listen, you...you...Jesus, I'm so mad right now, Ranger! I don't think I've ever been this angry with you. First, you order me into your vehicle without even _asking_ me to get in. You just tell me what to do, assuming I'll obey you. In case you haven't realized, I'm not one of your infantry recruits, _Captain! _Second of all, you flat-out refuse to take me back to my apartment and lastly, you're making it seem as though there won't even_ be _a wedding tomorrow. You want to tell me what you're trying to pull here?"

I was quiet for a few beats before finally glancing over at her. "I need some answers."

"Answers? What kind of answers?" she asked me angrily.

It was my turn to snap. "Like why you cut my men and I out of your life because you didn't want to "miss me" anymore. Why you're so damn afraid to be seen with me. And why someone tried to make Swiss cheese out of us at your apartment building. Those kinds of answers!"

"Why the hell do you feel you have to take me out of Trenton in order to get them?"

"Why the hell do you feel you have to marry another man in order to get over me?" I challenged. "Christ, Stephanie! I spent an entire year in hell. I come back to reality, and I'm still in the fucking underworld. The only thing missing is Satan and his pitchfork. No, wait. He's here somewhere. Oh, yeah. He works for the TPD, has a big orange dog named Bob, and recently replaced his traditional pitchfork with a 9mm police-issued Glock!"

Steph was silent as fat tears began to roll down her cheeks. "It's complicated." She turned away from me.

"We've got a long drive ahead of us," I growled. "Start explaining."

She sniffled. "Are you taking me to the Batcave?"

My lips quirked upwards in the promise of a humorless smile. "The Batcave is forever, babe. I'm not sure you'd be okay with that, since you seem to have fallen in love with Morelli all over again and have accepted his marriage proposal."

Steph gritted her teeth and replied, "Like I told you. It's complicated."

Conversation ceased immediately after her last statement and uncomfortable silence took its place. After awhile, my cell phone's ringtone bleeted through the quiet cabin of the Cayenne, startling us both and causing Stephanie to nearly jump out of her seat.

I hit the button to answer it. "Talk."

"Bossman," Bobby exclaimed. He sounded out of breath. "What's your twenty?"

I glanced out my window and squinted to find one of the green and white road signs that, every few miles or so, hung over the highway. As luck might have it, the Cayenne passed directly under a sign indicating we were travelling on I-95 southbound through Pennsylvania, nearing West Bristol.

"About twenty miles northeast of Philly," I replied.

"You're not coming back to Trenton tonight, are you?"

"No," I told him. "Not tonight. I've instructed Tank to let everyone know that we'll be out of town until further notice. Got anything regarding the shooting for me?"

"The bullet casings are being sent to the TPD crime lab," reported Bobby. "Morelli got here just as Santos and I did."

I grimaced. "And?"

Bobby was silent for a few beats before sighing. "Santos's got a black eye and Morelli's got busted-up knuckles to go with it."

"I knew Santos's mouth would get him in trouble somehow. It always does."

"Yeah. You called it, man. Anyway, Steph's neighbor, old Mrs. Karwatt, asked me to go out to dinner with her as soon as her new dentures finally get put in. Well, that's besides the point, but whatever. It happened. Mr. Wolesky was downstairs earlier with a sawed-off, hobbling around the parking lot and looking for the shooter to try some "vigilante justice" of his own. Lula, Connie, and Valerie are up here with me in Steph's apartment, hysterical. Stephanie's mother and father and grandmother are all on their way over. Crazy Carl Costanza and Big Dog had to take Morelli back to the station with them to get him calmed down after he found out you're headed out of town indefinitely with Steph. And for the record, nobody's all that happy with you right now, Bossman."

Really. I can't imagine why not.

"She's fine," I snarled to Brown. "Did you reiterate that to everybody?"

"Yeah, I did. But everyone's confused as to why you've taken off with her. Not to mention upset. Apparently the Polish National Hall doesn't have another opening for a Saturday wedding for eight months."

"Bummer." I was quiet for a second before adding, "It had to be this way, though."

"I completely understand where you're coming from, man," Bobby said quietly. "But they don't."

"Do me a favor, Brown. Send out a memo, if you have to. From now on, my cell phone had better not ring except in the event of death or dismemberment."

"Ten-four."

* * *

This was getting ridiculous. Stephanie was sitting silently in the seat next to me, tears flowing freely from her eyes and bursts of heavy breathing periodically escaping her nostrils. I was no closer to figuring out this whole mess than I had been when Tank picked me up that afternoon.

Which seemed like ten years ago right now.

I wasn't able to stand the silence anymore. "Babe," I said softly, working hard to control the frustration in my voice and actually succeeding. "Please, talk to me. This is serious. Someone shot at us tonight and I still have no idea whether they were shooting at you or at me or at the rat crawling out of the Dumpster. What were you doing down there at this time of night, anyway?"

Stephanie sniffled. "Throwing away a bag of trash," she replied in a small voice. She rested her chin on her elbow and stared out her window at the passing darkness. "Ranger, I'm scared."

I reached for her hand that was closest to me and picked it up in one of my own. It was warm and sweaty. I brought it to my lips and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. "You're safe with me now," I said to her. "Just know that. Whatever happens from now on, we'll get through it together."

For a fleeting second, I thought she would pull away and remind me of her "on again" status with Morelli, or that she was getting married tomorrow, or whatever cockamamie excuse she'd think to give me just to dodge the bullet of having physical contact with me. But to my complete surprise, Stephanie's fingers stretched out and rested themselves upon my scruffy cheek, rough with day-old beard growth and warm from exhaustion. She caressed the skin below my ear with her hand and the feeling nearly brought tears to my eyes and allowed a choking sob to escape my throat.

"I'm sorry, Ranger," she whispered. I turned to her and watched as her eyes welled up for the millionth time since I arrived in her lot two hours ago. "For putting you through all of this. I know I owe you an explanation, but I just don't know how to even start."

"Babe," I said, leaning into her touch, my voice cracking. "How could you do this to me?"

Stephanie's sobs became gut-wrenching and tore my heart to pieces in the process. I clearly wasn't the only one hurting, and I wanted so badly to take the pain away from her but I had no idea how.

Steph just kept on crying. Shit. I had no clue how to get her out of this mess that, to me, was seeming more and more like one that she'd had no hand in creating. But the more I pondered over it, the more I thought that no one we immediately knew had absolutely anything at all to do with this.

Her sobs eventually dwindled to sniffling gasps. "I don't think we can go back to Trenton now, Ranger. Not even if I wanted to." Stephanie's eyes were staring into mine, big and bright and shining with tears.

I held her gaze. "We're not, babe. Don't worry. I told you, you're safe with me." I kissed her palm again and held onto her hand tightly as I rested it on my thigh while I drove. The look in her eyes told me she believed me. She knew she was practically invincible when she was in my care.

Stephanie took in a ragged, shaky breath before whispering, "Because if we go back, I know they'll kill me."

My heart stopped cold. _They?_

* * *

A/N: So it's safe to assume that Steph still has feelings for Ranger, despite her impending nuptials with Morelli. Where is Ranger taking her? Is there such thing as the Batcave? (lol). Will something happen to make him change his mind and drive her back to Trenton so she can get married? Who wants to kill Stephanie and why? Check for chapter 5, up soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Top of the mornin' to ya, Babes!**

**I want to thank each and every one of you for your emails and reviews. Sorry for taking so long to update, but my muse has finally returned long enough for me to pump out chapter 5! Hopefully she sticks around so I can update quicker. Thank you all for being patient and for still continuing to tune into A Rare Delicacy, it means the world to me. Enjoy! **

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**Rating:** M for some coarse language and smut.

**Spoilers:** Through all the books.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own JE's Stephanie Plum series characters. Not mine, just borrowing. Note to the lovely Janet: I can't thank you enough for giving Lester to me permanently. Even the most creative minds wouldn't be able to guess the shenanigans we've been up to since you've made him mine for good. I know that when you visited last night he looked pretty bad, but the bite marks on his collarbone were _not _deep enough to draw blood and not to worry, I'll locate the key to the handcuffs dangling from his left wrist as soon as I get a chance to look for it.

* * *

The darkened highway seemed to stretch ahead of us for miles and miles. Stephanie had fallen silent after her fearful, whispered admission that if she returns to Trenton, she'll no doubt be killed. She was now back to staring out her window at the passing countryside, watching as the groups of trees that were dotting the edge of the road blurred together in all-consuming blackness. I gritted my teeth and willed myself to keep my hands wrapped around the steering wheel and not around her neck, strangling her until she caved and told me what the hell was going on.

Of course I would never actually do that, but I was so extremely frustrated that even the most horrific of thoughts were somehow seeping into my exhausted, sleep-deprived brain and gradually robbing me of my sanity. The last bout of shut-eye I'd gotten was close to forty-eight hours ago, on a hard plastic bench outside of a primitive-looking air strip in La Paz. Although I'd been trained by the military to stay awake for days on end, the emotionally-draining events of the last several hours were slowly but surely chipping away at my ability to keep my eyes open.

_They_. _They_, who? _They_ as in her family? No. The mob? Nah. Maybe, but unlikely. A gaggle of former skips who decided to get together and stalk her as a group? Could very well be, knowing her track record. Whoever "they" happened to be, they were forcing Stephanie to begin a new life. One that didn't include me or my men.

My cell phone jangled and I glanced at the readout before hitting the button to answer. It was Santos.

"I know that you told us not to call you unless death or dismemberment occur, but Bobby and I found something in Steph's apartment that I really think you need to see."

"What did you find?"

Lester took a deep breath and let it out completely before answering me. "A letter."

A letter? "Can you scan the letter when you get back to h.q. and e-mail it to me? I've got my laptop in the backseat. I'm getting ready to call it a night, once we're able to find a decent place to stop and get a room."

"Sure," Lester said. "By the way, TPD just called me with the results of the shell casings analysis. The gun used to fire the shots was a typical nine millimeter with a standard silencer attached to the barrel. The crime lab ran the serial number that was stamped on the casings and found that the gun's registered to a Dr. Harold Bachman and was reported stolen two days ago."

"Awesome," I muttered. "What kind of gun did Bachman report stolen?"

"A Glock 17 that he had purchased for self-protection purposes. There were no witnesses who saw the gunman or any other car besides yours exit the lot at the time of the shooting, so we don't even have a vehicle description to go by. Still no clue as to whether this was a random act of violence or a vindictive situation. Although after reading the contents of the letter we found, I'm leaning more towards vindictive."

"Get that letter to me ASAP," I barked to Lester. "Send Stephanie's family home with a man on patrol outside their place until further notice. And take Connie and Lula back to h.q. with you. Don't let them out of your sight until we can get some answers. There's a gunman or likely gun_men _on the loose, Santos. I'm counting on you, Tank, and Brown to provide me with the Intel that I need."

"Yes, sir."

I disconnected from Lester and sighed angrily, running my hand through my hair. I turned to Stephanie and wasn't surprised to find her staring back at me belligerently, her eyes shining. I turned back to the road.

"So you've got a letter in your possession," I stated flatly, not looking at her. "Who's it from?"

The tone of her response was clipped and icy. "If I knew, I'd tell you."

"When did you receive this letter?" I asked her.

"A couple weeks after you went offline in Bolivia."

A massive Best Western sign loomed ahead of us on the right and I slowed the Cayenne's speed as I prepared to turn onto the off-ramp. According to the GPS we were somewhere on the outskirts of Philadelphia, but still at least eighteen hours out from our destination. I pulled around to the hotel's parking lot and found a spot near the automatic sliding doors in the entryway.

"Time to rest for the night, babe." With that, I unbuckled my seatbelt and lurched out of the Cayenne before walking around to the passenger's side to collect Stephanie. When she was standing next to me near the backseat as I unloaded our bags, I noticed her glancing nervously around the lot at all of the vacationers' cars that were parked haphazardly between the yellow lines, decorated with luggage racks and out-of-state license plates.

"What if we were followed here, Ranger?"

"Babe. There hasn't been a car behind us for miles. No other vehicles were on the road when we pulled onto the off-ramp, in either direction. Besides," I reiterated, "you're safe here with me." She allowed me to hug her slim form to me and I placed a kiss just below her ear before hoisting our duffel bags onto my shoulder and grabbing my computer out of the trunk. Stephanie followed after me as I trudged up to the automatic doors and into the hotel lobby. The place advertised free Wi-Fi and a continental breakfast in the morning, so I knew I'd made the right choice by selecting it as our shelter for the night.

I opened my wallet and pulled out my alternative identification card as a precautionary measure when we sidled up to the check-in desk.

"Need a room for the night," I told the clerk. "The last name's Rivera." I slid a New York driver's license and a credit card stamped with the name David James Rivera across the countertop to her.

"Certainly, Mr. Rivera." The clerk tapped a few things into her computer keyboard and peered at the flat LCD screen. "I've got a room with two queen-sized beds, non-smoking, on the third floor. The rate for tonight is $127.00. Would that be all right?"

I nodded once and the clerk set about to processing my information. Stephanie was staring up at me with wide eyes and I knew she was somewhat shocked by my sudden change of identity, since I've never had to use an alternate ID around her before. I'd have to explain it all to her later because now was definitely not the time.

A couple minutes passed by before, "You're all set, Mr. and Mrs. Rivera."

I cut my eyes to Stephanie and saw that her cheeks were now flushed, no doubt at the "Mr. and Mrs. Rivera" comment. "Thank you," I said to the clerk as soon as she handed me a receipt and two room key cards. I collected the baggage and motioned for Stephanie to follow me to the elevator.

* * *

The room that we had been given was certainly adequate, but spartan. Retro-patterned bedspreads covered the two queen-sized beds. A small desk, boasting a lamp and phone, had been situated in the corner by the air conditioning unit and window. A small breakfast table and two chairs were in the opposite corner. The entertainment center held a 27-inch TV and nothing more.

So much for it being an entertainment center.

"Are you hungry?" I asked Stephanie as we trooped through the door into Suite 307. I set the last of our bags onto the well-worn green carpet and clicked the door shut behind us.

She shook her head. "Not really. My stomach's not exactly calm right now."

I took my laptop out of the briefcase and set it up over on the little desk in the corner while Stephanie unpacked the things I'd placed into the overnight bag for her. When I had the computer up and running, I opened my email account and scanned the list for the letter from Lester. In between an advertisement for penis enhancement and a weight-loss supplement, I found it.

Stephanie came to stand at my left side and I motioned for her pull up a chair next to me, at the computer desk. She situated herself in a chair from the breakfast table, her eyes shining and glued to the computer screen. Suddenly, without warning, she folded her arms on the desk in front of her and buried her face in the crook of her elbow, whimpering loudly.

"I can't read that letter again," she sobbed, her words muffled.

Christ. "Babe," I began, but quickly stopped myself. She needed help in order to get through this, that much I knew. But I was going to have to read the letter if I wanted to make headway with this investigation.

Sighing, I hugged her to me and she melted into my arms, clinging to my shoulders like they were her lifeline. I kept her face buried in my chest as I reached my right hand over to the wireless mouse. The email's subject was creatively entitled "The Letter" and was indeed from Santos's work address. By the time the document image had downloaded, Steph's sniffles and sobs had nearly disappeared but her face was still smushed into my shoulder. Keeping her face away from the screen with my left hand, I used my right to scroll down with the mouse until the typewritten words of the scanned letter came into view:

_Our Dear Stephanie,_

_We're certain that this letter will find you missing Carlos, no doubt. And we're thrilled to know that he is so special to you because that will make our jobs, and this awful situation, a whole lot easier for all involved. You see, we are a dark part of his past and you, mi'ja, are a bright part of his future. _

_Carlos has hurt us deeply. He has taken something from us that we will never get back. To know that he is head over heels for such a beautiful woman only makes me that much angrier at him, because long ago I once experienced deep love of my own and had it prematurely ripped from me by the bloody hands of your beloved. _

_The plan is to make him feel pain like he has never felt before. I want him to see you with another man, see you marry another man. Carry another man's children. Fall in love with another man. A man that is not him. I know that this emotional anguish would cause far more distress to him than the physical pain he's already become accustomed to in battle. Physical pain is not harsh enough for his punishment. Watching as you cut yourself out of his life and move on will be more than he can handle. I desperately want him to feel the same sense of irrepressible loss that I once felt, due to his actions. Mark my words, querida. This will break him._

_Our message to you, darling Stephanie, is simple: stay out of his life, and you get to live yours. If you enlist the help of his men, they, and possibly you, will pay a heavy price. And we know you care too deeply for them all to be responsible for their bloodshed. When Carlos returns from his mission, you will no longer be his, and he will no longer be yours. And please remember this: we will forever be watching you._

_Sweet dreams, belleza._

By the time my disbelieving eyes reached _sweet dreams_, my heart felt like it was tap-dancing inside my rib cage and was threatening to implode. I had no idea what to think first, but I knew one thing right off the bat was for certain: these men were no doubt our gunmen this evening. The shooting wasn't a random act of violence, or an accident. It was on purpose. And no one had a fucking clue as to who they were or where they were headed. For all I knew, they were at this very hotel and were somehow finagling a key card to our room by sweet-talking the desk clerk. No one had followed us into the parking lot earlier, but in my world such unfortunate things were sometimes bound to happen. It came with the territory of being a mercenary and paid assassin.

First things first. I continued to hold Stephanie to me as I located my cell next to the laptop and dialed Tank.

"Get a team together ASAP," I barked to him once the connection was made. "Get Santos and Brown and Ramos. I want everybody's lives revolving around this fucking letter until these men are located. As soon as I can come up with some names for you, I'll let you know."

"So you're thinking you might know who wrote the letter?" Tank asked me.

"I have a feeling, but the repercussions of a wrong accusation in this type of situation will be of disastrous proportions."

"I hear you, Bossman. Give me fifteen and I'll have a team assembled."

"Talk to Bachman, see if you can find out any information about his stolen gun. Talk to more people at Steph's apartment building. Get everybody moving."

"Ten-four." I could hear Tank's hesitation on the other end of the line. "Morelli wants in on the investigation," he finally said.

"Yeah? He giving you any trouble?"

"Not since he found out what was really going on here. He knows about the letter. The TPD crime lab can analyze the letter for fingerprints and ink type and all that, so he's on his way here."

I sighed. "Fine, he's in. Don't tell anyone where Steph and I are headed, especially him. I still don't trust him worth a shit and you can let him know that. Call me when you've got something. If I think of a name between now and then, I'll let you know."

"Yes, sir."

I disconnected from Tank and looked down at Stephanie. "Babe," I croaked, stalling out after that, not really knowing what to say. Steph had resumed sobbing into my tee shirt and big, hiccuping snorts echoed painfully in my ears.

"Ranger, I'm so sorry," she wailed. "I'm so sorry."

I stood up quickly and pulled Stephanie with me, into my arms. I hugged her tightly and pressed a kiss into her messy curls. "Nothing will happen to you, do you hear me? Nothing." My voice was low and forceful as I slightly shook her shoulders.

"I couldn't tell anyone," she sobbed. My tee shirt was now soaked with her tears, but I couldn't have cared less. "I got so scared for the guys and that's why I kept it all in. I can't even imagine how badly I must have hurt you all when you found out the news about Morelli and I, and I'm sorry. I wish I could take it all back but I can't. I don't want anything to happen to Lester, or to Bobby, or to Tank -

"They'll be fine," I assured her, looking deep into her watery blue eyes. "We'll all be fine. You did it all for a reason. Who knows what these angry men are capable of? You were looking out for everyone's safety and I'm proud of you, babe."

Stephanie suddenly became tense and pushed me off of her, her eyes now blazing with anger. "Proud of me? Ranger, I've got some looney-tunes duo out watching my every move, making sure I stay away from you and Rangeman. Somehow I've been sucked into the force field of your miserable past and instead of it haunting just you, it's haunting me, too! What have I done to deserve the role of punishment pawn in your twisted, guerilla warfare games? I'm sick of being psycho bait. I'm sick of having stalkers. I'm tired of being put into danger every time a situation arises that involves you and Rangeman and some disgruntled desperado that you're all chasing after. Why me, huh? Well, here's something for you to keep in mind: your crazy past is catching up to you, Ranger, whether you like it or not. It's time to face the music. Did it ever occur to you that your old life may cause you to lose someone you care about for good? You've succeeded in fucking up both our lives this time, so congratulations. Be proud of that!"

I was seething. "Stephanie, I've never forced you to do any of those things. You volunteered to help Rangeman all by yourself. Why didn't you tell anyone how you felt?"

"What good would that have done?"

"You don't get it, do you," I sneered. "You must not have read the first portion of that letter, the part where I'm head over heels for you. Christ, Stephanie! If you knew what I went through down in that rainforest and how thinking of you got me through each day -

"Your life is putting mine in danger, Ranger," she said in a low voice.

I grabbed her shoulders and held on for dear life. "Babe, _you_ are the only reason I am here tonight. _You_ are the only reason that I didn't die in the miserable blackness of that dirt manhole, wondering if I'll ever see the light of day again." My voice cracked. "Every time I closed my eyes, I saw your face in my vision and it kept me breathing, kept me seeing and believing. I need you, Stephanie. I need our passion, our desire for one another. I opened my heart and soul to you, babe. You're in there, whether or not you want to be."

By now, fat tears were rolling down her cheeks and were splashing onto the puke-green carpeting of our hotel room, soaking into the matted-down fibers. Loud sobs escaped her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut and hung her head, allowing for the faster flow of the tears onto the rug. She toyed with Morelli's engagement ring, twisting it around and around on her finger. "But I made a committment, Ranger."

"Babe, don't do this," I croaked. I hugged her tightly to me and allowed the intoxicating smell of her wild curls to penetrate my senses.

Stephanie pulled away from me and twisted her engagement diamond on her finger, sniffling loudly and lifting her eyes to look into mine. "I have a safe life with Morelli," she said quietly. "Free from deranged stalkers and psychos...safe from the dangers at Rangeman. It's the kind of life I _should_ have."

I peered into her eyes for what seemed like hours before finally saying, "But is it the kind of life you _want_ to have?"

I already knew the answer to that. Of course it wasn't. I knew Stephanie, and I knew her well. Although Joe Morelli wasn't by any means a terrible man, but he was wrong for her in almost every way.

She needed to fly, and he was holding down her wings.

"As long as I'm in your life, Ranger, mine will forever be in jeopardy." Stephanie looked up at me, sadness evident in her gaze.

"My government contracts are up," I insisted quietly. "I've been terminated from the ability to accept future missions. I'm done, babe. No more leaving. I'm here to stay."

Stephanie reached up and caressed my cheek with her warm, soft hand. Regret stung in her voice when she whispered, "I'm sorry, Ranger."

No. Please tell me she wasn't doing this. "Please don't tell me I'm too late."

Slowly, Stephanie nodded. The tears fell faster from her eyes as she continued to rub my cheek. I leaned into her touch and felt my heart breaking once again. "It would be best for all of us, Ranger."

"This isn't what you want, babe. I can see it on your face. I can see it in your eyes."

"You're right, it isn't. But it's time I took charge of my life and left the dangers behind. I know you understand that, Ranger. No one understands me better than you do."

I removed her hand from my cheek and pressed her palm hard up against my lips. "I love you and will forever love only you, babe."

Time stood still for what seemed like hours. Stephanie didn't answer me. Instead, she wordlessly pulled her palm from my lips and grasped one of my large hands between her little fingers. With her unwavering gaze trained on mine, she began walking backwards to the bed nearest to us, stopping when the backs of her knees bumped up against the edge of the mattress. She let go of my hand and, still keeping her eyes burning on mine, lowered herself down onto the comforter and scooted all the way back so that she was propped up against the bed pillows.

I was confused about her actions at first, but when her denim-clad legs fell open on the bed and her gaze turned sultry, I got the message loud and clear.

"Ranger." Her voice was barely above a whisper and thick with emotion. "I need you to show me how much you love me. Just tonight, make me yours. Make me feel safe in your arms." I watched as she slipped the engagement ring off of her left hand and set it on the nightstand next to the bed, a futile gesture to relieve the guilt she was no doubt feeling from being betrothed to Morelli and entertaining the idea of sleeping with me.

My body was warring back and forth with good sense and evil intentions. I wasn't sure if I could allow myself to have her just this once knowing she'd made her decision to go back to Morelli when this was all over, but a large part of me wanted to feel her one last time, taste her one last time. The good sense quickly fleeted from my brain and I couldn't stop myself from climbing onto the bed and settling between her legs. "God, babe," I groaned, pressing my hard length up against the juncture between her thighs and hearing her breath hitch as I shifted against her clit.

"I need you inside me," Stephanie breathed into my ear. Her hips were rolling up against mine as I rocked back and forth, creating friction that sent daggers of intense heat shooting down my legs. My fingers found the button and fly of her jeans and deftly worked the metal snap from its hole, rasping the zipper down once the waistband was parted. I sat back on my haunches and gripped the denim material in my hands before sliding her jeans over her hips and down her mile-long legs.

Amazing. She was so beautiful that I stopped and stared down at her for a long while, drinking in her perfect form and memorizing every curve and contour of her gorgeous body. The tiny pair of black bikinis stretched across her lower half, practically begging to be torn off. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and slowly slid them down her thighs, baring her creamy skin to my aching eyes. She was so perfect. So fucking perfect.

"Babe," I gasped. "Christ, I want to taste you so badly."

Stephanie whimpered at my words and I felt her hands slither into my hair as I lowered my lips to hers. Her mouth was warm and soft as I tasted her. It felt like coming home. Like her lips were the only ones mine were meant to ever be kissing. I breathed deeply and the sweet scent of her skin invaded my nostrils as my tongue caressed hers. Her fingers were on my belly and were trying to slip the button from its hole on my jeans. I reached down to help her and then her hands were sliding my pants down over my thighs and finally I was as naked as she. I could feel how wet she was for me against my hard cock and my thighs were quaking from working to hold back.

Finally, I heard the words I didn't know my ears had been aching to fucking hear. "Please, Ranger. Now."

That was all it took. Her stretchy little tee shirt was torn off and her bra joined it on the carpet. Her perfect breasts were so soft and beautiful to my gaze. I brushed the pad of my thumb across one of her hard little nipples and the throaty groan that escaped her mouth was enough to nearly send me over the edge.

I wanted to savor this. I wanted to remember this moment for the rest of my life. I went in slow and felt her tighten around me, hot and silky and wet. Her body fit me perfectly. Flashes of light burst behind my eyelids as I began to move, dragging in and out of her tight hole at an alarmingly slow speed. And the dam broke and I crashed over then, feeling her legs wind around my middle and tighten as she slowly lost control along with me. I moaned when Steph's hands fisted in my hair and she pressed her full breasts against my chest as I pounded into her. Open-mouthed kisses and screams of encouragement followed as we worked towards the edge together as one, flying towards sweet release. The pooling of burning satiety became evident in my groin.

At last we came together, shouting each other's names into the darkness of the hotel room, kissing tears from each other's cheeks. Loving each other with our bodies and hearts, our souls in tune as one.

"I love you," I gasped as I collapsed on top of her.

The following words that came out of her mouth were bittersweet, because I knew she loved me but wouldn't allow herself to give into those feelings. "I love you, too, Ranger. Don't you ever forget that. It will always be you. My heart will always be yours."

**

* * *

**

We made love for hours beyond that, stopping only to answer nature's calls and to check the cell phone for new messages and the laptop for new emails. By six in the morning, there were still none.

I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Next to me, Stephanie's breathing had evened out and I knew she was asleep then. Her wild brown curls were fanned out across her pillow, her naked curves concealed only by a thin white sheet. Her puffy pink lips were parted slightly as she slumbered. I knew she needed rest and I did not deny her the sleep her body craved.

My life prior to Rangeman had not been a walk in the park. As a mercenary and contract killer, I constantly found myself fighting the battle between right and wrong, good and evil. Often times, what was right was wrong, and what was deemed evil was actually good. Working in gray areas was a common occurrance for me and my team as we toiled to save lives and the liberties of nations not fortunate enough to experience freedom.

Innocent people suffered at the hands of me and my men because the judicial systems of these underdeveloped countries were primitive and unfair. Many times, I wanted to give up and come home. I wanted to unglue the barrel of my pistol from the temples of those I knew had nothing to do with anything wrong. I wanted to whisper to them to run far into the jungles and hide until the blasting and bombing ceased, sometimes days later. I wanted to take every child and every woman to safety to prevent the senseless casualties that would forever haunt my nightmares.

I'd seen too much. Done too much. Caused too much pain.

My eyelids slid shut as I fell into a deep, restless sleep. Images of death and destruction plagued my night visions as I tossed and turned next to Stephanie, my mind whirling as my conscience tried to recall the events of that fateful night. The night I took the life of a wife and mother. And suddenly, it all came flooding back to me.

I awoke with a start. My chest felt heavy and my breathing was ragged. Beside me, Stephanie was still slumbering peacefully. The light of early morning shone through the cracks of the window curtains, casting a sickeningly cheery glow around the darkened room. Quietly, I crawled out of bed and located my cell phone on the desk in the corner and dialed Tank.

"I've got a name for you," I said quietly once the connection was made.

"Hit me."

"Joba Herrera."

Tank let out a huge sigh and paused. "I had a feeling," he said finally.

"Find him."

* * *

A/N: Sorry for such a long chapter! Lots to clear up, though. Will we hear from Joba Herrera and find out his unfortunate story? Is this it for Steph and Ranger? What role will Morelli play in the investigation? Stay tuned for chapter 6.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, everybody!**

**I want to apologize for taking so long with getting this chapter posted. I didn't abandon this story, it's just that RL has been hectic lately! Hope this new chapter of A Rare Delicacy finds everyone happy and doing well. Thanks for sticking with me through six chapters already! Wow, time flies! Have a good week!**

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**Rating: **M for language.

**Cupcake Warning: **Cupcakes beware!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own JE's Stephanie Plum series characters. Not mine, just borrowing.

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"Hey," I said softly to Stephanie. I placed a butterfly kiss on her cheekbone and smoothed her hair away from her forehead. She blinked her bright blue eyes a few times to become adjusted to the dim light of the early morning, which was filtering into our hotel room from between the cracks in the curtains. Slowly, a smile spread across her bleary face as she became more awake.

"Hey," she replied.

The smile that I'd been wearing when I was kissing her awake dissipated and I grew serious, drawing in a deep breath before opening my mouth to speak. "Babe."

"No," Steph said, shaking her head. "No 'babe'. No talking. Not yet." She reached up to me with her arms and pulled me down onto her smooth, soft body. She felt like heaven, still warm from sleep and smelling so good, like her and me and her perfume and shampoo. I breathed in deeply and filed the scent away in my memory, in case she never smelled like a combination of those four things again in our lives. I was done forgetting the little things about her. I wanted to savor every moment in her arms, every touch, every kiss. Every embrace. Every caress. Every laugh, every tear. I was done forgetting. It was time to begin cherishing.

I wrapped my arms tightly around her and buried my face in her curls. "I'd rather be here with you like this," I began, "than anywhere else in the world right now. I don't want this to end. I can't let you go, Stephanie."

Her chin trembled underneath my cheek and a few seconds later, dampness spread from my temple to my ear and I knew she was crying. It hurt so much to see her in this condition, having her whole life planned out by an insane letter and some ridiculous expectation she's got being held over her head to marry a guy that won't put her life in danger. When I eventually came to the conclusion that Stephanie thought her world would be better and safer as Mrs. Joe Morelli, it pissed me off to no end.

What she didn't seem to understand is that with my government contract now terminated permanently and my dangerous mercenary activities finally complete, I was no longer required to do the dirty work of the militaries of third world countries. I could concentrate exclusively on Rangeman security business and bounty hunting for Vinnie's high bond skips. Any future danger that Steph might happen across would no doubt quickly fizzle out once my men and I became aware of it and were able to put a stop to it before it got to her.

"God, Ranger," said Stephanie, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I feel like I'm constantly being dealt the shitty hand of cards in life because I seem to be getting worse and worse at being able to protect and defend myself. Why do things like this always happen to me?"

"Babe," I said, kissing a rogue tear from her cheek, preventing it from rolling down any further. "Don't even for a _second_ blame yourself for what's going on here. You need to realize that you had nothing to do with any of this. This is _my_ personal demon coming back to haunt _me_, not you."

Steph took a deep breath and let it out slowly before asking, "Did you kill someone, Ranger?"

I hung my head shamefully and pulled her tighter up against me. How the fuck could I even begin to explain this to her? "Yes," I admitted quietly after several moments. "It's something I've never, ever talked about before this moment, with anyone. Just the guys. And the Army shrink."

"Did you kill someone's wife? Someone's mother?"

"Babe," I grit out, sighing. I ran a hand over my face. "Christ, this is so hard." My voice cracked.

Stephanie urged me to lay on my back and she snuggled up to my side, with my arm protectively around her. She settled under the covers and lightly began to draw lazy circles on my stomach with the tip of her pointer finger. "Ranger, you can talk to me about this. I want to help you get this out and off your chest, since it has to do with why we're in this predicament in the first place. I want to know what happened to her."

I sighed again and swallowed before beginning. "Her name was Amelia Marquez-Herrera. Her husband was a major player in an illegal cocaine operation that was going down in Bogotá about six years ago. Joba Herrera. Herrera was an informant who, one day, leaked the wrong information to the wrong section of the Colombian drug cartel and nearly managed to get himself killed because of it. He spent six months in a jail somewhere deep in the jungles, befriending numerous drug lords while locked up and somehow ended up gaining their trust so that he could work with them when they all got out.

"Arnaldo Torres was another huge piece in the cocaine ring puzzle and was a very dangerous, very vindictive man. My unit and I had received orders from the Colombian government to execute any and all members of the Torres cartel and, since Torres happened to be one of the guys Herrera had befriended in prison, we were also ordered to take down anyone who associated with Herrera until we were able to locate Herrera himself. To make a long story somewhat shorter, we ended up receiving Intel that led us to Herrera and his family, who were all hiding in a bungalow near the border of Colombia and Venezuela. We'd been ordered by the government to take them into protective custody if they were found.

"Herrera, his wife, and their teenage son Eduardo came forward peacefully at first. As we loaded them into our terrain vehicle, Herrera suddenly became belligerent and lashed out at one of my men, injuring his face with a shank he had hidden in his shirt sleeve."

Steph's fingertips were soft and warm on my stomach and I rolled to my side to face her while I continued talking. She held me to her and stroked the back of my neck when my voice hitched in anticipation of the most horrific part of my tale. After a couple of deep breaths, I was able to continue. "My men and I had no choice but to retaliate against Herrera. Another one of my men tried to retrieve the shank from Herrera's grasp, but Herrera lunged at him again. I pulled a gun on Herrera." Shit, my voice cracked again.

This was so fucking hard. Steph soothed me with soft kisses to my temple and within seconds, I was ready to begin again. "Amelia had been shouting for me to drop my weapon, and to not shoot her husband. She had somehow managed to escape from the grasp of one of my men and when I pulled the trigger, it was too late. She'd jumped in front of Herrera and instead of the bullet from my gun plunging into him, it tore through Amelia's carotid and embedded into a tree trunk."

Stephanie gasped in terror. "Ranger, my God. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me, too, babe." I hugged her tightly to me and choked back a sob. "I never meant to kill her. She wasn't who we were after. It's Herrera that we'd wanted, and she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time like most innocent people are. She tried to protect her husband and died in the process, at my hands. I've never forgiven myself for what I did that day. It's something that I'll have to live with for the rest of my life."

"But Ranger, it really wasn't your fault. She stepped into the line of fire, willingly. To protect her husband, like you said. You can't blame yourself for this. I'm so sorry that you've had to go through this."

I kissed Stephanie with every ounce of love and passion that I felt for her. I felt my lips bruising and I became lightheaded from lack of oxygen. When we finally came up for air, she had tears streaming down her cheeks again.

"Babe, why are you crying?" I asked her softly. I used my thumbs to brush away the salty drops that fell from her bright, blue eyes.

"Because you're hurting," she whispered. "And I'm part of the reason why."

I quickly became frustrated. "Why are you so sure that Morelli can give you things that I can't? What is it that he has, that I don't have?"

Stephanie sniffed and blinked up at me. "He doesn't have enemies. He doesn't have a terrible past that could resurface at any moment. I'd be safe with him, Ranger."

"So safety," I reiterated flatly. "Safety is all you're after. Not love, not friendship, not a soulmate, not a someday. In other words, you're willing to give up your own happiness just to dodge a few bullets and escape a few sticky situations. IF any of that even happens." I unwound myself from Stephanie's body and slowly lifted myself off of the mattress. "Just doesn't seem fair to me, Steph."

"It's the right thing to do, Ranger," Stephanie said angrily. "I've already promised to marry Joe. Don't you think he's worried about me? He already thinks we ran off together and that he'll probably never see me again!"

"So what am I, just someone to fuck until we get back to Trenton and all this is over with?" I sneered.

Stephanie scoffed. "Hmmm. It's not so great when it happens to you, is it?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Remember our deal a couple years ago? After you spent the night with me and sent me back to Morelli because you didn't think you were good enough for me at the time? Yeah, well that hurt, Ranger. That hurt pretty badly. Welcome to the club."

I stalked over to where she sat on the bed and faced off with her, nose to nose. "At the time, I wasn't. I had a contract with the government. Now, it's different. I told you I'm done with missions and assignments. I want to have our 'someday', babe, but it looks like you're not going to let that happen. I'm sorry if I'm too late, but I don't think it could have been any other way." With that, I turned away from her and headed into the hotel bathroom. I heard Stephanie call after me, but I slammed the bathroom door shut before my resistance caved and I answered her yell.

* * *

Stephanie was on her cell phone when I finally emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. I was certain that she was talking to one of my men, but I wasn't sure which one.

She glanced at me as I walked over to the bed and sat down to begin putting on my shoes. "No, he just got out of the bathroom...I'll have him call you right now. Bye, Lester." She snapped her phone shut and primly rose from the bed in all her naked glory. I tried not to stare as she proceeded to flounce into the bathroom, her nose so high in the air she probably could have gotten a nosebleed. "Call Lester." The bathroom door slammed shut and I knew at that moment that things were royally fucked up between us.

Sighing, I dialed Lester and waited for him to pick up. "Santos," he barked after four or so rings.

"You called Stephanie?" I asked him.

"I called you first. When you didn't pick up, I called Stephanie."

"What do you have for me?"

"Joba Manuel Hoyos-Herrera. Eduardo Castillón Marquez-Herrera. I have their current address as Calle treinta y uno, numéro doce, en Bogotá. No word on whether they've actually made it into the U.S., but by the looks of things they already have. Their names and identities are no doubt concealed, so we have no idea who we're looking for. Could be anybody. Could be the guys who cleaned my sister's pool yesterday. Could be the guys selling arepas on the corner of Haywood and Fannon."

"Fuck," I grit out. "Tank told me yesterday that Morelli wants in on everything. Has he read the letter? Does he know why Steph wants to marry him? Or does he just know about Steph having another stalker?"

"No, Morelli hasn't read the letter. Tank gave it directly to the Fed in charge of the investigation. I told Morelli to pretty much stay out of things until we give him a reason to get involved. No need for him to be breathing down everybody's necks, barking fucking orders and generally being a piss-ass."

"So what exactly _does_ Morelli know?"

"To the best of my intelligence, he only knows that Steph's got another creep after her, and that's pretty much it. As far as I know, he's not aware that Herrera told her to stay away from you and to get romantically involved with somebody else in order to save her own life. And I doubt he'll ever find out, because the Feds aren't releasing any details at all about the letter or the investigation to the local departments due to the fact that the case is now being considered official FBI business only."

"Good. But something still feels off, though. I want one of you doing security checks on him often. Once on the hour, every hour. Tail him around Trenton, if you have to. I'm still getting a bad feeling about him, because he's so eager to be in on the investigation. Don't lose track of him. If you do, I want to know about it."

"Roger that. How's Steph? Are you guys okay?"

"She's fine. She's not speaking to me, but she's otherwise fine. We'll work it out, man. Call me when you have something else. We're heading out of here in a few, after Steph's done in the bathroom. We've got a long drive ahead of us."

"Be safe, Bossman. Peace." Lester disconnected.

The bathroom door opened and Stephanie pranced out. She'd put on jeans and a stretchy tee shirt that said _I'd rather be windsurfing. _

"We need to get on the road," I said to her. "Start packing your things." I headed over to where our bags were stashed and began loading my clothes into mine. Steph ignored me as she brushed past me. She carried her bag over to the bed and began tossing her things inside.

"So, I know that Morelli's in on the investigation. Did he happen to read that letter?" she asked, her tone clipped and icy.

I shook my head. "Nope. But I can tell you that if he did read it, he'd know you were only with him because you were following Herrera's orders and not because you love him and truly want to make things work. The note is already in the custody of the FBI." I tossed my razor and deodorant into my bag and zipped it shut. "Maybe I _should_ have him read it."

Steph's head snapped up and she glared at me, fire flashing through her eyes. "You'd never do such a thing, Ranger," she said, her voice low and menacing.

"You're right. It's not in my character to be vindictive and sly." I threw my duffel bag onto the floor and turned to face the dresser before rooting around for the room key cards. "Let's go, babe."

* * *

Stephanie fell asleep somewhere near Raleigh. I took that opportunity to make a few calls before she woke up and began angrily interrogating the hell out of me. I didn't need that right now. We'd already stopped at a rest center's Taco Bell for lunch and gassed up the Cayenne, with minimal words to each other all the while. I wasn't sure how to fix things between her and I, but I was certain that she'd come around once we got to our destination.

My cell rang as we blazed south down I-95, passing through Smithfield. "Talk to me," I barked to Santos.

"The Feds analyzed the letter and found fingerprints," Lester reported. "The prints belong to Eduardo Marquez-Herrera. Bobby and I went over to Steph's complex this morning and questioned everyone we saw. An old woman living three doors down from Steph said she saw a dark-skinned young man lurking around the parking lot two nights ago. Said he was wearing all black and had the bill of a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, so she wasn't able to see his face. That was all she was able to tell me. Didn't say whether he got into a car or was with anyone else."

These were all excellent developments. "Keep on it, Santos. You guys are on the right track."

"How much longer until you're at the safehouse?"

I glanced at the GPS and figured we were about another twelve hours out. "I'm driving straight through. It's one o'clock now, so we'll probably be there after midnight. I'll be in touch."

"Ten-four." Lester hung up.

Stephanie stirred, but didn't wake up. I knew that extracting her from her environment during a time of crisis would bring about major issues, but I also knew that if we didn't head for the hills after the first sign of danger last night, the more serious problems would no doubt come out of the dark to play.

The Cayenne glided across the Florida/Georgia state line at precisely seven o'clock. Steph was awake by then, and the icy, clipped tone had dropped out of her voice and was replaced with a listless-sounding mumble. We stopped for dinner at a Wendy's in Jacksonville. I choked down a salad and ordered Steph a grilled chicken sandwich, which she picked at and eventually threw out after claiming she wasn't very hungry. We were back on the road at seven-thirty, with Steph once again nodding off.

"Where are we going, Ranger?" she asked sleepily. She yawned and stretched out in the seat next to me. "And why is it taking so long to get there?"

I glanced over at her. "I have a safehouse on Key Biscayne," I replied quietly. "We'll be protected there, for the time being. The exact location is unknown to everyone but my attorney and a couple of trusted men from my Miami operations center. Even my core team back in Trenton has no clue what the actual address is."

Steph's eyes went wide. "A beach house?"

I nodded. "It backs up to the ocean." I ran a hand through my hair and turned to face her again. "My housekeeper is expecting us. You'll have everything you need there, waiting for you."

Steph fell silent. She stared out the window at the passing blackness, no doubt wondering what in the hell she'd managed to get herself into and how the fuck it was going to be resolved. When she turned to face me again, her eyes were soft and her voice was calm. "Is there a pool? Can I go swimming?"

I smiled. "Yeah, babe. There's a pool. And yes, you can go swimming, once we're settled in."

* * *

I pulled the Cayenne into the circular stone driveway in front of my beach house a little after midnight. I put in my code at the wrought-iron gate and waited until it slid open before easing the SUV through and up to the closed garage door. I input another code at another keypad and the garage door began to rise. I pulled into the darkened carport and came to a stop as the overhead sensor lights clicked on. Steph was still asleep, but as soon as I'd turned off the a/c and cut the engine, her eyelids fluttered open.

"We're here," I said. "Time to wake up."

"We're here?" came the sleepy reply. "It's about damn time."

My housekeeper met us near the door that led into the house. She was an older Hispanic woman, in her mid-sixties with salt and pepper hair always pulled back into a low bun. When she smiled, her crinkled eyes showed both her age and her wisdom. Her name was Rosalia, and although it was necessary for mine and Stephanie's survival, I absolutely hated keeping my true identity from her.

"Señor Rivera," she announced happily, once I'd gotten out of the driver's side of the Cayenne. She hurried into the garage and over to Stephanie, who was staring back at her with eyes the size of soup tureens. "Señora Rivera. Bienvenidos á Miami."

"Gracias, Rosalia," I replied, smiling. "This is my wife, Isabel." I turned to Stephanie. "Izzy, this is Rosalia."

"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Señora Rivera," Rosalia said to Stephanie in her thick, soothing accent. She kissed Stephanie's cheek and clucked over her, tsk-tsking and removing the duffel bag strap from Steph's shoulder before hefting it into her arms. "Let me get this for you, mi'ija."

"Thanks," Stephanie replied, clearly confused. She was still wide-eyed and looking at me questioningly.

"I'll explain later," I mouthed to her. I led Steph into the house after Rosalia and turned to lock up behind us. We walked through the service room and down a long hallway that led to the kitchen. I hadn't been to the house in at least a year, but Rosalia and my team of decorators and landscape designers had truly kept the place immaculate until my return.

Stephanie gasped as soon as we entered the kitchen. "Ranger, this is...beautiful," she breathed, staring up at the vaulted kitchen ceiling and seeing the moonlight and stars shining in through the skylights. I'm not much of a cook, but there were state-of-the-art appliances and granite countertops for my culinary team to utilize when I happened to be in residence. The refrigerator was stocked with fresh food and beverages, and the cabinets held clean dishes and glasses. A selection of wine was stored in the wine rack next to the large range hood.

"Help yourself later, if you're hungry," I said to Steph. She was too preoccupied with checking out the eat-in breakfast nook to respond. A large round table sat in front of the bay windows, which looked out into the backyard and pool area.

"Ranger, your backyard looks like something shown on MTV Cribs," Stephanie exclaimed.

I had to chuckle. "Focus, babe."

Steph immediately came to my side as Rosalia bustled back into the kitchen. "Let me show you to the master suite, Señor Rivera. Both of you, please. Follow me." Rosalia motioned for Stephanie and I to accompany her to the south end of the house, where the master bedroom and bathroom were. "The guest bedrooms aren't quite finished yet, so I didn't bother to make up any of those beds. I think you'll be very comfortable in the master suite."

"Thank you, Rosalia," I replied, as Steph and I fell into step behind her. Stephanie was oohing and aahing over the decorations and furniture in the living room and the dining room as we passed through on the way to the stairs. The steps were wide and open, twirling from the ground floor up to the third floor, twisting in a spiral as they ascended. The three of us climbed to the second floor and stopped when Rosalia came to a room near the end of the hall with wide double doors.

"This is it," Rosalia exclaimed, opening both doors. Inside was a king-sized bed with a canopy. To the left of the bed were French doors that led to the balcony, which overlooked the backyard and out into the Biscayne Bay. Ornate sconces gave the room an orangeish glow, and the furniture looked expensive. I really didn't remember picking it out, but I vaguely remember getting the bill and grimacing.

"This is beautiful," Stephanie breathed. She walked over to the French doors and looked out at the moonlit bay. When she turned back to me, her eyes were soft and sparkling in the dim light. "I'm really impressed."

"Glad you like it," I replied, smiling.

Rosalia kissed my cheek and then moved to hug and kiss Stephanie. "I'll let you both get settled. I am so pleased that you're here." She paused and smiled a wavering smile. "You know, when my husband and I were young like you are, en Cuba, we were so happy together. You both remind me so much of my husband Juan Carlos and I. You will have many memories here, and throughout the rest of your lives together. Sweet dreams, mi'jitos. It has been a long day for you both." With a final smile, Rosalia ducked out of the bedroom and I heard her footsteps retreating down the marble-tiled hall.

Stephanie stared at the door for a moment and then turned to me. "_Izzy?_" she exclaimed. "You want to tell me what's going on here, Ranger? Why the sudden change of identities?"

"Babe. It's to protect us." I was tired of having to explain to her why every move I made was done to ensure our safety. I wanted so badly for her to just trust me, to know that I would keep her safe. The more she fought me on things, the harder it was becoming for me to be patient with her. I scrubbed my hand over my eyes and blinked. I was so fucking tired.

"This is weird."

"It'll get even weirder when Herrera figures out where we are because one of his minions discovered that a Stephanie Plum and a Carlos Manoso checked into a mansion on Biscayne Bay. Something to think about." I opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony to breathe in a lungful of salty beach air. Stephanie followed me out onto the balcony and crossed her arms over her chest.

"So Rosalia thinks you're David Rivera? And that I'm your wife, Isabel Rivera? Who else doesn't know the truth?"

"My culinary staff, my gardener, my interior designer, my aquatic maintenance crew...my neighbor, Mrs. Valenzuela...the mailman..."

"Okay, okay. I get it. How is us being here supposed to get us any closer to capturing Herrera? And getting back to Trenton?"

"Just go with the flow, babe. I mean, really. Is being here such a hardship? So you have to pretend to be Isabel Rivera for a little while. Big deal. It's better than being prime rib for Herrera's killer appetite." I moved back inside the bedroom, Steph at my heels. I locked the French doors behind us and started towards the bedroom door. "Let's bring our things upstairs and get ready for bed. We're meeting with two of my men from my Rangeman Miami operation in the morning, and we need to be well-rested."

I left the bedroom and started down the hall. When I'd reached the stairs, Stephanie came hurrying up behind me and stepped down to the first floor with me, side by side. We gathered our bags from the kitchen and carted them back up to the bedroom in silence.

The real issue came after Stephanie had showered and had changed into tiny plaid boxer shorts and a very skimpy tank top, sans bra. When I began taking throw pillows off of the bed and placing them on the floor next to the nightstand, Steph came to stand on the opposite side of the bed and watched me turn down the covers.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" she countered.

I sighed. "Wherever you'd like, babe. You heard Rosalia. The extra bedrooms aren't prepared to sleep guests. You're more than welcome to sleep here in my bed with me, or on the couch down in the family room. I'm not going to force you to sleep anywhere you don't want to sleep. But what I can tell you for sure is this: I'm sleeping in this bed, on this side. It's eighty-six degrees tonight, with high humidity. I'm not going to be wearing much to bed, if anything at all. If you're not comfortable with that, being betrothed to Morelli and all, then please go down to the couch." I fluffed up a couple of pillows and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

When I came out of the bathroom in black boxer-briefs and nothing else, I noticed that the covers on the opposite side of the bed were rather lumpy and puffed up. Hunh. I tiptoed up to the bed and peeked behind one of the large pillows and, sure enough, bundled up in my 3,000-thread-count sheets, was the Queen of Denial herself.

"Babe?" I countered conversationally.

"Hmmmm?" came the muffled reply.

"Was the couch too uncomfortable?"

"I don't know. I never went down there to test it out."

"Oh." I cracked a smile and silently thanked God that she didn't see me. "I hope you remember to stay on your side of the bed. I don't want you to feel like you're cheating on Morelli." I crawled into my side and stretched out on my back, with my arms under my head.

"I already cheated on him, Ranger."

"Yeah, you did." I turned my head to face the back of Steph's head, looking at her messy curls. "But was it worth it?"

Silence. After a few beats, I heard a resigned, "Yes."

And there it was. I let out a soft snort of laughter and shook my head before turning onto my side, away from Stephanie. "Good night, babe."

"'Night, Ranger."

* * *

_Chirp, chirp. _What the fuck? _Chirp, chirp. _My cell. It was bleeting away on my nightstand with Santos's name and number flashing across the screen. It was three a.m. and this shit had better be important and related to Herrera. Or else.

"What?" I barked groggily.

"Bossman," Lester husked out. His voice was scratchy from sleep and I could tell he'd just woken up. Either that, or else Liliana had chained him to the bed frame earlier and had made him scream his fucking head off in ecstasy until he was hoarse because of whatever the hell she'd done to him.

"What happened? Lily lose the handcuff keys again? Because you know I can't just run down there with my lock pick -

"Got a call from Tank just now," he interrupted me. "Morelli's M.I.A."

I sat up all the way and felt my heart begin to pound. "What the hell? How do you know that?"

"Tank and I have Manny and Zip on the nightshift Morelli-Watch and they're switching out with Junior and Vince at dawn. Morelli left his house fifteen minutes ago and Manny followed him in his Expedition, but lost him on Route One. Morelli was headed south into Philly. Alone, as far as we know."

"Any other details I should know about?"

"None I can think of. Oh, wait. Manny told Tank that he saw Morelli put a small suitcase into the backseat of his Tahoe before getting in."

"That's it?"

"Well, yeah."

Suspicious Officer Joe Morelli wants in on an investigation involving his girlfriend and her former lover in a futile attempt to prove to everyone that he's still the good guy. Meanwhile, he's got the attention of all involved, generally acts shady, and now departs his rowhouse at three o'clock in the morning with a suitcase and manages to lose his tail on Route One, southbound into Philadelphia.

"Have you tried calling him?"

"Cell goes straight to voicemail," Santos replied.

Fucking awesome. "I want an APB put out on Joseph Morelli," I said to Lester. "Call Agent Turner from the FBI's Newark headquarters. Get Joe Juniak on the phone and explain the situation. Get everybody at Rangeman moving."

"I knew it was a bad idea to bring Morelli in from the start," muttered Santos. "I tried to tell Tank, but whatever."

"It was my fault, Santos. I okayed it. Now, you have three people to look for: Joba and Eduardo Herrera, and Joe Morelli."

"Ten-four, Bossman."

"And Santos. If you find any of them, I want them brought down here to me. Dead or alive."

"Roger that." Lester hung up just as Stephanie stirred next to me. Her eyelids fluttered open and she focused her gaze on mine. She blinked and stared at me questioningly.

"Ranger? Is everything okay?"

I sighed. "Morelli disappeared," I said to her.

Steph's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open as she became fully awake. "What do you mean, he's disappeared?"

"I've got men in Trenton tailing his every move, since something just feels off to me about his involvement in the case. I want to ensure that he's one of the good guys, that's all. Manny and Zip watched him leave his house about fifteen minutes ago, with a suitcase, and they ended up losing him on the highway headed into Philly. And his cell goes straight to voicemail."

"Ohmigod," Stephanie gasped. "I can't believe this!"

"Let's just hope he had a family emergency or something, because he's high on the suspicious activity list. Do you know if he has any family down in Pennsylvania?"

Steph thought for a moment, but then shook her head slowly. "None that I can think of. Everyone's up in Staten Island. He's got some family near Hazlet here in Jersey, but that's about it." Steph blinked. "I can't believe you guys would actually think of Joe as a possible suspect. I'm certain he has nothing to do with any of this!"

"I hope not, babe. Like I said, something just feels off."

Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest and blew out a frustrated sigh. I knew this was hard on her, but I've been relying on my gut instincts for decades and I was almost _never_ wrong.

My cell phone rang just as I laid my head back down on my pillow. It was Tank this time.

"Bossman, you're not going to believe this."

* * *

**A/N:** So where did Morelli traipse off to, and what might he have to do with this whole situation? Are Ranger and Stephanie through for good? What does all of this mean for their relationship? Will they find the Herreras before it's too late? Stay tuned for chapter 7!


End file.
